Blade of Destiny
by Slyfer911
Summary: A legendary blade...a mysterious organization hellbent on recovering it. In the midst of all of the chaos, Ash and his band of theives are caught in the middle. He will meet old friends and foes, and come to grasp his true destiny... Completely rewritten.
1. Museum Heist

**A/N: If any of you are wondering whether or not you've seen this story before...it's cause you have. Blade of Destiny was my very first foray into writing, and let's face it; you could tell when you read the story. The story soon spiraled out of control into the Point of No Return. Of all the story ideas I've had, this was the first and still the best to me,and it was very disappointing to not see this story reach its full potential. So, I deleted it and I'mstarting back from square one. If you like it, tell me. If you don't,** **_please_ tell me why. I don't want to get into the tenth chapter again before realizing the plot is confusing and convoluted _again_. Anyway, without further ado, I present to you, Blade of Destiny.**

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Blade of Destiny

Chapter 1: Museum Raid

He shivered as the rain pelted him mercilessly. The moon cast a dim light over the building, and his athletic figure was illuminated for a moment by the flash of lightning, giving an almost ominous look about him. Of all the nights to do this job, I have to pick the one that's got a raging storm; he scolded himself as he checked his combat suit for all of the necessary equipment.

"Let's see here...pokeball...check. Glass cutter...check. Gun...check. Dexter..." The small computer embedded in his sleeve flashed to life.

"Yes, sir?" the machine asked in a mechanic, yet masculine voice, before being answered with a smack from its owner.

"Shut up." He rolled his eyes and continued his mental list. "Dexter...check. Earpiece..." he patted himself down, searching for the machinery. This is the last time I let Max put all this crap on me.

Finally, he found the earpiece and ran a hand through the ebony hair that clung to his face. "Brock, you read me? I'm on top of the museum now."

"Yeah, but the storm's giving off a lot of interference. If the signal suddenly goes dead, that'll be the reason. Max has been monitoring the police airwaves, and they're unusually on edge, so make this an in and out job, got it?" a voice answered, dripping with bass.

"Yeah, whatever. I won't take too long. Security in this place looks pretty light. Shouldn't take any more than thirty minutes, max. Go ahead and send Dexter all the info. I don't want to be shooting blind out here. Don't wait up for me," he added playfully as he sneezed loudly.

Brock chuckled through the earpiece. "Bless you. All right kiddo, we're going under radio silence. I'm sending Dex the files now. Call me if you need me." His end of the conversation clicked off, leaving the young man all alone on the rooftop, shivering from the downpour.

He raised his arm to stare at the screen imbedded in his sleeve. "Now you can talk, Dexter. Did you receive the files from Brock?"

"Yes sir. The target is approximately 409 yards away from our current position. I've already hacked into the museum's security system...would you like me to display the camera images on the screen?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small object and nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Have you spotted any of the guards yet?"

"I've counted seven guards, three on the first floor and four on the second. They seem to follow a strict patrol...would you like me to also display the quickest route around them?"

"Yeah. Alright Dexter, I need you to be quiet. I don't want a repeat of Celadon, got it?"

"Yes, sir. Going into sleep mode," the machine replied before allowing the screen to die out. The young man approached the large dome that lay on the roof and placed the glass cutter on it, preparing to enter before his wrist began vibrating violently.

The young man growled and flicked the computer back on. "What the hell is it Dexter?" he hissed at the screen.

"Sir, may I suggest a different approach to entering the museum?" He scoffed and threw his hands up in the air.

"Fine, Dexter. What's your great idea?"

"Well, there is a heating duct to your right. I suggest you use that as your point of entry. Not only will cutting the glass have a moderate risk of triggering the alarms, but rain will fall inside, signaling your arrival. The heating duct should provide a safe way inside; and also dry you off, leaving no wet footprints."

The young man was surprised; that actually was a very good idea. "Well, Dexter, it seems that you're actually useful after all. Where would I be without you?"

"Either dead or in jail, sir." The young man rolled his eyes and pulled out a small screwdriver and removed the screws from the vent. Slowly, he crawled through the stifling duct, barely able to breathe in the heated air. Finally, he spotted his exit and removed the grate and dropped to the marble floor without a sound.

The thunder rumbled outside, and lightning briefly lit the darkened hallways of the building. He swept his eyes across the area and ducked behind a glass case that housed a large Magikarp skeleton. Flicking on Dexter, he checked the map for the location of his target.

He chuckled to himself. Just my luck, it's not too far away. The flashing red dot on the floor plan that displayed on the computer screen indicated it was only a few rooms away. He turned, only to duck back into cover of darkness, barely avoiding being spotted by a passing guard.

I'm getting sloppy. Slowly, he peeked his head out in time to see the guard disappear behind a corner. Letting out a long sigh, he checked the area again before darting off in the direction of his target.

Ash was amazed as he crept through the corridors of the museum; tons of priceless heirlooms and artifacts were housed here. He grinned; he might have to come back to make a quick buck on the black market from these. Finally, he reached his prize, and gasped at what lay before him.

A large broadsword sat in the middle of the glass case, supported by two metal brackets. The hilt was made of gold, and glistened in the moon light that shined through the glass ceiling. There was a small impression in the middle of the hilt, and it was obvious something was placed there before. However, the most impressive thing about the weapon was its blade.

Instead of being a metal blade like he was expecting, it seemed be made of a translucent crystal, shimmering in the brief light that the thunder provided. Inside of the blade, various colors swirled about, as if someone had dropped a number of assorted ribbons into a glass of water. Ash stared had as he neared the glass case, reaching into his back pocket and removing the glass cutter. He read the description of the artifact that was etched into the stone below the glass.

"This amazing weapon was found in the ruins of Alph in the Johto region. The archaeologist who discovered this artifact reportedly collapsed moments after finding it, after eyewitnesses described seeing a green light flash from inside the ruins. The weapon is believed to be over 6000 years old, a treasure of the ancient civilization that used to live in all three of the regions."

Ash stared hard as he approached the case and removed the glass cutter from his back pocket. Suddenly, the trail of yellow shimmered brightly for a second and large flash of light filled the room. Ash screamed out in surprise and fell back as the light blinded him. His head felt like it was burning; his mind kept telling his body to get up and run, but it wouldn't obey, instead choosing to lock up and freeze. The burning in his head began to intensify, until it got to the point where he thought his mind would explode. Then, as suddenly as it came, it vanished.

Ash's vision blurred as he groaned and rolled over onto his back, waiting for his vision to clear before he would get back up. He blinked hard, and soon his vision cleared; but he was soon regretting it.

He was staring in the barrel of large shotgun. "Ah hell," he said out loud as he tried to get up before the sound of a shell being loaded into the chamber halted his movements.

"Move and I swear to God, I'll pull the trigger." Ash raised his eyebrow and scoffed.

"Since when did they start giving flashlight cops shotguns? I was expecting mace in a worst possible scenario." The older guard, who seemed to be in his fifties, growled and pushed the weapon further into Ash's face, was obviously annoyed by his smart remark.

"Shut up. Now I want you to stand up, slowly. Any tricks and you'll have to learn to cut your steak with one arm, got it?" Ash nodded and slowly rose to his feet, keeping his hands above his head the whole time.

The video screen on Dexter suddenly clicked on as Brock's face appeared on the display. "Yo Ash, is everything going all right?" The guard glanced at the small computer embedded into Ash's sleeve; and that was all the time Ash needed.

In a display of blinding speed, Ash dashed over and slapped the barrel of the shotgun out of his face. The guard cried out in surprise and pulled the trigger, sending a large spray of buckshot from the barrel. Ash grasped the gun and sent a swift kick to the man's shin, audibly snapping it in two.

The man never had a chance to scream out in pain as Ash delivered a crushing blow to the man's temple and knocked him out. He crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering loudly on the marble floor.

Ash grabbed the guard's shotgun and cocked it, ejecting the empty shell to the ground and loading a fresh one into the chamber. He glanced over to the glass case before looking back to the gun in his hands and shrugging. "To hell with it," he said as he raised the gun to case and pulled the trigger.

A loud boom was followed by a crash as the buckshot ripped through the delicate glass and shattered it upon impact. The alarms began their shrill scream, drowning out the crunch of broken glass under his feet as he approached the sword and strapped it across his back into the sheath that he had brought with him. Now, time to get the hell out of here, he thought as he turned and stopped dead in his tracks.

A large assault team stood in front of him, pointing various assault rifles and handguns at him. Apparently, someone had tipped off the authorities, and they decided to send in SWAT or some other kind of elite squad. The thunder clapped overhead and the lightning flashed, giving an ominous look to the men clad in black.

Dexter chirped as it came to life and spoke to its owner. "Sir, I've just detected a message over the police communications line. They're sending a special team to protect the sword. They might be there already," it stated as Ash scoffed.

"No shit, Dexter."

Next Chapter: The Shootout


	2. The Shootout

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**A/N: While I was writing this chapter, something hit me. Part of the reason the original draft was so confusing was because it seemed to jump around so much and you really didn't know what the main conflict was. I've realized that, and so I've made a conscious decision. Instead of this being one story, I am turning this into a trilogy. This new format will help me out greatly, and it will make the story a lot clearer. Now, what does this mean to you, the reader? Well, if you're a new reader, then you can completely disregard what I'm about to say and enjoy the story. However, if you have readthe original version, this will be a give and take situation. Because of this new trilogy format, I will be able to flesh out the characters a _lot_ more,and I will also be able to add sideplots and such that I had planned originally, but had to cut in the first draft. So you will be seeing a lot more new things in this story that I had barely touched upon or hadn't even mentioned in the original. However, this also means it will take a considerable amount of time to catch up to where we all left off last time. But I hope you enjoy the rewrite, cause in my opinion, it's already turning out better than what I had at first. Enjoy the story!**

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Blade of Destiny

Chapter 2: The Shootout

"Have the authorities been alerted yet?" The voice cut the empty night air like a knife. The young woman shifted uncomfortably in her car seat and fidgeted around with the laptop that sat in between her legs.

"Yes, I've alerted the Pewter PD of his presence. Surprisingly, they've sent a Special Forces attack squad to intercept him. He should be either captured or killed within the hour, and the sword will be confiscated. Everything is going just as we planned." The shadowy figure shook its head and chuckled quietly.

"Good. How are we going to retrieve the weapon from the authorities?" She flicked a stray hair behind her head and stared into the screen.

"We have an insider, sir. As soon as the authorities confiscate it, it should be sent directly to the Special Forces for 'protection'. It's simply a matter of him waltzing into the vault and bringing it to us." The figure in the screen looked at her with a look of surprise.

"The insider has that much security clearance?" She nodded and smiled lightly.

"Yes, sir. I made sure that we wouldn't have a mishap as we did with the shield. There is nothing to worry about. There is a team out now, pooling all of its efforts into recovering the shield as we speak." The figure nodded.

"Good work, Agent Summers. I want you to go to the Goldenrod outpost and await further instructions there. The Board has...pressing matters that we would like you to keep an eye on."

"A possible uprising?" The figure on the screen shook its head.

"We've received word that the outpost is working on a new type of genetic research. We don't know if they mean to use this for the good of the organization, or for their own petty advances. If they try to use this information in the outside world, our cover will be blown. We can not afford to reveal ourselves before we have attained full strength."

She cocked an eyebrow and looked at the screen suspiciously. "I thought we would be able to hold our own even against a Special Forces assault?"

"That is true, Agent Summers. However, we are still vulnerable; and you should never underestimate the strength of the element of surprise. Go to the Goldenrod outpost and await further instructions. You have your assignment."

She nodded. "Understood. Summers out." The screen blinked out and shut down, leaving her in the darkness of night. With a sigh, she turned the ignition, bringing her car to life with a roar. "They always give me the boring jobs..." she lamented as the vehicle backed up and sped out of the empty parking lot.

* * *

"Put the weapon down and place your hands over your head!" a voice shouted from the small squad of heavily armed men. Ash chuckled nervously. 

"Come on guys, this isn't even mine. Can't we just talk this out? I'm sure this is just a huge misunderstanding." He was answered with the numerous clicking of safeties and the sounds of bullets being loaded into the chambers. There would be no screwing around here. These guys were dead serious.

"Put the weapon down and place your hands over your head, **NOW**!" the same voice cried again, heavily emphasizing the end of his statement. Ash sighed and raised his hands in the air, the shotgun still resting in his right palm.

"Fine, fine. You win." Quickly, he glanced above him at the large glass ceiling above the building. The pattering of the rain rung loudly throughout the empty building as Ash smirked slyly. "I hope you guys don't mind a little rain." With a smile, he pulled the trigger on the shotgun.

The buckshot zipped through the air and struck the fragile glass above them. Instantly, the ceiling shattered with a loud and the glass poured into the building below, the fierce pounding of the rain following right behind.

Wasting no time, Ash quickly leapt to the right, barely avoiding being shredded by the hail of gunfire that soon followed. He chuckled to himself as he checked the ammunition in his weapon. Seven shells. "Dexter, give me a layout of the building and show me the nearest exit!"

The computer in his sleeve blinked on and quietly came to life. "Sir, the nearest exit would be 20 meters to your right, but-," Dexter stopped as Ash raised his hand.

"I didn't ask for your life story, Dex; I just wanted the quickest way out of here," he answered as he cocked the shotgun, He brought a hand up to wipe the water from his eyes; since the ceiling was gone, the storm outside was free to enter, and it lowered his visibility greatly. He smirked and peeked his head out from cover. If he couldn't see, then that meant that they couldn't either.

With a deep breath, Ash took off towards the exit door, hoping not to run into any of the armed men. "There he is!" a voice cried out, barely audible through the pounding rain. Almost instantly, gunfire rang out throughout the building, trailing Ash as he sprinted towards his exit.

He could hear and feel the whizzing of the bullets behind him, slicing through the glass encasements of the artifacts in the museum, and ricocheting off of the stone walls and the marble floors. A man stepped out from behind a large case in front of Ash and pointed his gun, ready to fire.

Ash gasped and slid feet first onto the marble, the water carrying him across the floor. Before the man could react, his legs were swept from under him as Ash slid underneath him and kicked his legs from under him. As the man fell with a loud cry, Ash finished the job with a swift kick to the man's sternum and shoved him away with his feet.

Ash coughed loudly; the water that had collected on the floor to ankle height had found its way into his nose and mouth, choking him. Ash couched violently again and spit on the floor before wiping the water from his eyes. Through his blurred vision, he could see the exit door; only a few feet away.

He chuckled and dashed over to the door, grabbing the handle and pushing forward. He glanced angrily at the door as he found it locked. "Son of a-," he swore as he rammed his shoulder into the steel door, trying to force it open. The door refused to move, and his only route of escape was cut off.

There was no way he's be able to make it downstairs and get through the huge double doors; they most likely had men down on the first floor also, ready to fill him with lead at a moment's notice.

He cursed loudly as a stray bullet bounced from the wall near him, forcing him to duck and hide behind a large glass case. Frantically, he switched the miniature computer on and waited impatiently for it to boot up.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the computer flashed to life. "Yes, sir? What is it?"

"Dexter, you dumb piece of junk! You led me to a locked door; there's no way out of here!" he yelled as he ducked again from another shot that shattered the glass case behind him.

He yelped and dove out from his hiding spot, firing three shells into the blurry figures that remained hidden by the rain. "Well, sir, I was trying to tell you that before you cut me off so abruptly. The entire building is locked down."

"Then hack it!" Ash yelled as he fired the last four shots from the shotgun and tossed the now-useless weapon aside.

"That's not possible, sir. The signal is so tightly encrypted that I can't hack it without ample time." Ash growled and yanked the Beretta 9mm from its holster and cocked it.

"How much time, Dexter?"

"Oh, about thirty minutes." Ash glanced at the screen, bewildered at the machine's estimation.

"Thirty minutes! I won't last thirty seconds with these guys! Patch me in to Brock!" The computer complied as Ash took off from his old hiding spot and searched for a new one. He had barely taken five steps before coming face to face with another of these heavily armed policemen.

The officer raised his assault rifle to fire, but Ash quickly grabbed the muzzle of his weapon and yanked it out of the way. He swiftly brought his knee into the man's stomach and slammed the butt of his pistol into the base of the man's skull, knocking him out instantly.

"Ash, are you all right? Answer me!" a voice cried from Ash's arm, prompting him to take cover behind a large statue and stare at his friend's face in the screen.

"Brock, I'm in need of a little help here," he said sarcastically, firing three shots blindly behind him.

"I know; I was going to see how you were doing but as soon as I opened the comlink, the police communications wire went ballistic! Ash, you need to be very careful. You're stuck in there with Special Forces agents."

Ash's eyes opened wide with disbelief and shock. "They sent the League Special Forces here to protect this sword! How hot is this merchandise anyway!" Brock shrugged.

"Max is on the net trying to dig up everything he can about the sword, and he's monitoring the police chatter. He says that as soon as you went into the building, the line started to go crazy. He thinks you've been set up." Ash swore and fired a few more shots off before being forced back into hiding by a hail of gunfire. "I'm sorry; Ash, but I can't help you out from here. There's nothing I can...shit, I'm losing the connec-," his voice was cut off abruptly before disappearing into a storm of static.

"Brock? Brock!" Ash yelled into the screen of Dexter as the computer made a quiet hum and died down. "Dexter? Dexter, reboot now!" The machine lay silent. "Damn it!" He was on his own, with no outside support, and he was pinned down by the world's most elite law enforcement unit.

He thought he recognized their tactics; they employed an old military maneuver he had learned about. One half of the unit would lay down covering fire on the enemy, while the other half would flank him and approach. He swore loudly. _No wonder I've been bumping into these guys every time I try to change positions!_

He glanced at the now-defunct computer on his wrist. The only thing left that would work was the grappling hook Max had just installed; it never needed to be powered by the computer. _But Max said he hadn't tested the weight limit..._ Desperately, Ash searched for a way out of the building. Glancing up, he spotted a large chandelier hanging above a clearing in the middle of the exhibits, swaying wildly in the air from the fierce storm winds. _Perfect._

Grabbing the empty shotgun that lay next to him, he patiently waited. The suppressing fire was beginning to wane; it was obvious they had lost track of his position. Now was his chance to act. Taking the shotgun, he threw the weapon with a grunt, sending it flying into the middle of the clearing. It fell with a loud clatter, capturing the attention of the officers.

"He's in the clearing!" a voice cried as more suppressive fire began to rain down on the empty clearing. A smile crept up onto Ash' face; they were buying it. It was hard to see through the pounding rain, but he could spot a group of blurry figures making their way towards his bait.

"What the hell? It's just an empty shotgun," an officer said, seemingly annoyed by their pointless trek as he lifted the weapon and tossed it away. All Ash could do was smirk as he quickly rose from his hiding spot and carefully took aim at the chain that barely held the huge chandelier in place.

The bullet pierced the chain with a loud clang and the large object quickly began to plummet onto the officers below. A loud string of curses was yelled as they all scattered like cockroaches, diving to avoid the falling chandelier.

Ash dashed towards the edge of the second floor, the only thing standing between him and the marble of the first floor was a thin glass banister. "There he is! Open fire!" an officer yelled, and almost instantly a barrage of bullets was sent his way from the officers weapons, trailing him quickly.

Ash's breath was labored as he put all of his energy into reaching the banister, desperately trying to outrun the deadly pieces of metal being fired at him from behind. A stray bullet whizzed by his ear, causing him to cry out in surprise and almost slipping in the ankle-high water.

With one more burst of energy, Ash held his hands out and leapt over the banister, plummeting down to the floor almost thirty feet below. Desperately, Ash twisted his body in mid-air and grabbed his wrist, firing the small hook from Dexter into the wall behind him. The hook shot out from the computer with a small hiss and embedded itself into the stone wall with a loud thunk.

Ash's body flailed through the air like a rag doll as the wire yanked his body backward and swung him down into another glass case on the first floor. The wire snapped and sent him tumbling across the floor, sending the sword sliding across the floor away from him.

His vision blurred even more as he desperately tried to wipe the liquid from his eyes. He swore as he desperately sloshed his hands through the water, trying to find the sword. His search was halted as heard the sound of a hammer being cocked behind him.

"Get up. And don't try any of your Matrix bullshit, either. I'm not in the mood," a nasally voice said from behind him. He could tell from his tone that whoever this guy was, he was exceedingly confident, maybe a little too confident. Ash could use that to his advantage.

"Don't move." Ash tensed his body as a hand groped his body and removed his Beretta from his back pocket. "Beretta, huh? Why am I not surprised? Well, at least you're smart enough to try and carry around a light 9mm weapon. Most of the guys I take down try to carry a heavy ass Desert Eagle on them."

A loud click echoed throughout the rain, followed by a clattering to his left. Ash sighed; the man had removed the magazine and tossed it away. His gun was useless now. He had to act quickly. "Jenkins, this is-," his report into his walkie-talkie was abruptly cut off as Ash whirled around and smacked the radio out of his hand, sending it flying into the water.

He quickly followed up with a kick to the man's kidneys; he wanted to end this skirmish quick. Surprisingly, the man leaned to the side and evaded the attack before countering with his own. An amazingly fast punch was thrown to Ash's face; faster than he expected. The fist connected with his jaw with a loud smack, sending Ash reeling from the force of the blow.

Ash looked at the man with a look of surprise; obviously he wasn't confident without a reason. He growled and flung a jab aimed at his throat, but it was expertly parried and countered with a chop to Ash's neck. Ash was ready this time and blocked, countering with an attack of his own.

Both of them attacked each other maliciously, but all of their attacks were futile as each blow was blocked or parried expertly by their opponent. Ash tried to catch him off-guard with a snap kick to the man's shin, but even that attack was dodged and countered with a roundhouse.

Ash caught his leg on his left shoulder and held a firm grip on it, immobilizing him. Ash smiled. "Looks like I got you." The other man smiled back as he yanked his pistol out of the holster on his other leg and pointed it at Ash's head.

"Me too." Neither of them dared to move; they were locked in a stalemate. "That's pretty cheap, you know. Pulling a gun on an unarmed man." The other man chuckled and maintained his weapon's gaze on Ash's head.

"So is kicking me in a fistfight, so we're even." Both of their eyes locked together, refusing to even register a glance in a different direction. Quickly, Ash took a glimpse on his left, hoping to fool his opponent into doing the same.

His eyes showed reluctance, but he soon took a look in the same direction for just a moment; yet it was all the time he needed. Ash hurled a fist into the man's thigh and moved his head simultaneously in time to barely avoid the bullet that was fired from the man in surprise. The searing air that was launched from the barrel burned his cheek as he tossed the man backwards and grabbed his face in pain.

The man fell into the water with a splash and groped around blindly through the liquid. Suddenly, the water near them churned, as if something was struggling underneath it. A light emanated from the source of the commotion, illuminating from under the water.

Both of them stared into the light, mesmerized. The light began to shine brighter and brighter, until they were both blinded completely. The other man screamed out, and in an instant, the light ceased.

Ash stumbled around, unable to see through the spots in his eyes. As his vision cleared, he spotted the man lying unconscious on the floor, his head under the water. Ash stared for a moment, then sat him up and leaned him against the wall. It seemed like he was still breathing; Ash chuckled. "Don't say I never did anything for you."

Ash felt through the water, his hand landing on the hilt of the sword and grabbed it. He looked back one last time at the man as he slipped the sword into its sheath and took off towards the double doors that formed the entrance to the museum.

"He's getting away! Open Fire!" Ash swore as he dashed to avoid another volley of gunfire and rammed his shoulder into the doors. The doors held steady, and Ash desperately tried to think of a way out. Part of the door was made of glass, and he could use that to his advantage. He turned around and searched, finding a trash can nestled in the corner.

Still trying to dodge the gunfire, he ran over and yanked the trash can up, tossing it into the glass door with a crash. He chuckled to himself as he dove through the remains of the door, and landed onto the concrete outside.

He layed a hand on a small sphere attached to his belt and clicked a button on it, enlarging it from the size ofa marble to a softball. Quickly, he tossed the ball out in front of him. The sphere opened with a loud crack and a flash of white energy, morphing into a huge bird with large, majestic wings.

"Pidgeot, let's get the hell outta here! The cops are on us!" The bird cawed in response and turned around, allowing Ash to hop onto its back. As soon as he landed on it, the bird spread its wings and took off into the storm, taking Ash and the sword with it.

A large man stepped through the broken glass and cursed loudly. "He got away." He felt around on his outfit, removing a large radio and clicked the button. "Jenkins to team. Suspect has evaded pursuit. Repeat, suspect has evaded pursuit. Halt all efforts." He sighed before clicking the button again. "And somebody wake up Curator Ivy. She's gonna be pissed."

The rain began to lighten up, decreasing in strength from a constant pounding to a light drizzle, almost instantly. Jenkins looked up into the night sky and raised his hands. "Now you decide to let up."

A loud crackle interrupted him, emanating from the radio in his hand. "What is it?"

"Sir, it's HQ. Waterflower wants to talk to you." Jenkins rolled his eyes and turned back into the museum.

"Fine, put her through." The radio crackled again for a moment before being replaced by a light feminine voice.

"So, how'd it go?" Jenkins was quiet for a moment, hesitant to tell her. "Jenkins...are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. The operation...didn't go exactly as we planned."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he got away. And he took the sword with him."

"What! What the hell do you mean, he got away! We sent in some of our best men, including you and Gary!" Jenkins' handheld radio rattled violently as the woman's voice erupted into a fit of rage.

"I don't know! The guy was good, very good. We'll find him. Have you gotten any leads on that shield yet?" The woman sighed.

"Harrison is out following some lead now, but I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up being a dead end too. Well, pack it up and bring it in. The Chief isn't gonna like this..."

"Alright. Jenkins out." Jenkins placed the radio in his pocket and sloshed through the water towards the group of officers that had gathered in the lobby. "Well, what's the report?"

"Two unconscious, and Agent Oak is missing, sir." Jenkins' was taken aback.

"Gary's gone MIA? Everyone sweep the building. Find him now."

"No need to, Jenkins. I'm right here." Jenkins whirled around to find Gary trotting up to them, his hair matted down from the downpour. He smiled lightly and felt himself down, cursing loudly.

"What is it?"

"That bastard took my Glock! That was custom made!"

"You mean you ran into him? Did you get a good look at him?" Gary nodded and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah. I don't know who he is, though. I do know one thing; he was good. Very good. Hey, did somebody happen to throw a flash grenade?" Jenkins looked at him, puzzled.

"No...why?" Gary's face crinkled up, a confused look on his face.

"Nevermind. Let' s get out of here."

* * *

The light drizzle pattered onto Ash's face as he and Pidgeot soared through the sky. He sighed and pulled the sword out of its sheath, examining it closely. _What was with that light? _He stared at the unique blade, mesmerized by the colors inside of it. A strange shimmer caught his eye, forcing him to squint as he leaned in closer to the blade. 

The streaks of gold, silver, and and green began to shine brightly; the strange thing was that the others were still dull and dead looking. Ash's brow furrowed as he shook his head and placed the sword back in its sheath. _I gotta rid of this thing as soon as I can. _

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud caw from Pidgeot; they had arrived home. Ash smiled as the bird began its descent to the small house; they had bought a small place outside of the city to use during their operations. The pokemon slowly circled the house and landed without a sound.

Ash hopped off the creature and patted its back, thanking it for the ride home. He looked at it playfully for a moment and unstrapped the sword from his back. "Go ahead. Just make sure you come back in a day, got it?" The bird nodded and nipped his ear gently before spreading its wings and taking off into the night sky.

Ash chuckled and turned to walk into the house, reaching his hand out to grab the doorknob before the door was yanked open. "What the hell happened, Ash! The connection cut off in the middle of the transmission! You broke Dexter again, didn't you! Damn it, Ash; do you think that I can just stroll on down to Radioshack and pick up some parts to fix him!"

Ash stared at the tall, lanky young man who was screaming his lungs out at him, letting him carry on. Max always did this; he was never exactly the laid-back type. He always worried constantly about **something.**

"Are you done ranting, Max? And for your information, I didn't break your precious equipment...this time. Dexter malfunctioned on his own; that means there's a design flaw, Max." Ash ripped open the pocket that held Dexter and tossed the small computer to him. "That's ok. It was a good time to upgrade him anyway. You might want to fix that grappling hook too. The wire snapped under my weight."

Max grumbled as he slammed the computer onto the counter and leaned against the counter. "I think you were set up. Almost as soon as we went under radio silence, the police line went insane. Somebody called them and tipped them off."

"Any idea who?" Max shook his head.

"Not yet. I've been searching, but I haven't turned up anything yet. I've also been trying to find more info on the sword, but there's almost no record of it until it was dug up a few months ago. It's really wierd." His eyes fell on the object in Ash's hands. "Is that the sword?"

Ash nodded and patted the weapon lightly. "Yup, and it was hell trying to get it, too," he said as a sharp pain reaced through his head. Instantly, he whirled around and prepared to strike out of reflex before stopping in his tracks.

"If you hit me Ashton Satoshi Ketchum, I swear to God, I will take your face and slam it through that window," her voice said menacingly. Her blue eyes glared at him through the long brown strands of hair that covered her face.

"Well maybe you should stop sneaking up on me and hitting me in the back of the head." She smiled, and smacked her palm onto his forehead.

"There. Now I hit you in your face." Max groaned and took a seat.

"You know, you guys a really strange idea of flirting. It's almost as bad as Brock."

"Really?" Max yelped as a large tanned hand slapped him in the back of the head. He growled and looked up to see Brock standing over him, smiling brightly.

"Ok, we need to chill out on the slapping, seriously." Brock chuckled and glanced at Ash, looking at the sword in his hands.

"That's it, huh? Well, pull it out, let's have a look at it." Ash grinned and pulled the sword out of its sheath and sat it onto the table in the middle of the room. The others gasped and moved in closer to get a good look.

"Oh my god, it's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it before in my life," May said quietly, in awe of the beauty of the blade. Brock and Max nodded, speechless. Ash cleared his throat.

"Be careful, there's something wei-," Ash was cut off as the sword began to vibrate violently on the table, clattering loudly. The others backed away quickly as it vibrated even fiercer, falling off of the table onto the carpet. A loud whine droned from the sword, growing louder and louder, causing the others to cover their ears.

"What's going on!" Brock exclaimed loudly over the noise. Ash shook his head. Soon, the sword began to light up again, filling the room; and it in an instant, it was gone. No sound, no vibration, no light, nothing. Ash looked around, only to see May and Brock lying on the floor. Max stared at him with a bewildered look on his face.

"Uh...Ash? What the hell just happened?"

* * *

"What the hell do you mean, he got away?" The face on the screen looked away nervously. "I asked you a question." 

"Well, Agent Summers, he evaded pursuit, and...took the sword with him." Agent Summers growled angrily, wanting to smack the screen senseless. "Do you have anyway to contact him?"

"Yes. I was supposed to contact him in another two days to know if he had retrieved it or not. Unfortunately, thanks to your incompetent unit, I actually have to now."

"Well, you can use this as an opportunity to get it and kill him in the process. Do want a team to go with you?" She shook her head.

"**I** can handle one man by himself, which is more than I can say for all of you. Besides, maybe I can have a little fun with him afterwards." She smirked. "By the way, we've found the shield. I sent a team out to retrieve it now. He couldn't evade us for long. No one can. Keep us updated on the Special Forces' operations, understand?" The face nodded. "Good. Summers out."

* * *

His labored breath echoed through his mind as he raced through the alleyway behind his comrades. He took one look back, and regretted it instantly. The door he had just barricaded shut was thrown open, flying off of the hinges and careening into the brick wall with a smash. He gasped and tried to move his legs faster as his friends disappeared around the corner. He smiled; the car couldn't be too far ahead. 

It was already hard to enough to try and outrun somebody; it was a hell of a lot harder with a huge crystal shield strapped to his back. He reached the corner and rounded it; the car was just ahead of him. His friends were already waiting for him, waving wildly at him as pumped his legs harder. "Mikey, hurry up! They're right behind you!" Just a few more steps...and then the car exploded into flames. Mikey's eyes widened; his friends, all of them, gone.

Mikey almost stopped for a moment, ready to collapse onto the ground in shock and grief, but the sounds behind him halted his thoughts. Grieving would have to wait until later; he had to get out of here alive first. A creature snarled from behind him, and snapped at his legs as he ran. A fire escape! That could be his way out! A growl erputed from behind him as he ran even harder and leapt, barely able to grab the iron bar that hung above him.

Mikey cried out in pain; one of their Houndooms had latched onto his leg with its teeth and was shaking its head fiercely, trying to bring him down. A warm liquid began to run down his leg; Mikey tried to block out the pain as he yanked his pistol from its holster and fired into the pokemon's skull. The Houndoom yelped out in surprise and pain, then fell onto the concrete below with a smack.

He wasted no time in climbing the steps, his right leg throbbing and pulsing in pain. More blood leaked out of the wound and soaked his pant leg as he grabbed the roof of the building and threw himself over. He stopped, breathing heavily for a moment before painfully climbing to his feet and beginning his limping run along the top of the building. He stopped for a moment and listened. All was quiet...had they lost track of him?

As if answering his question, the door on the roof slammed open, prompting Mikey to start his agonizing escape once again. He hadn't even taken three steps before a gunshot rang out, and left leg exploded into pain. He collapsed into a heap on the roof and groaned loudly. He quickly yanked his pistol out of its holster again and aimed at his pursuers before another bullet pierced his wrist.

The gun clattered to the floor, followed by a terrible scream that emerged from Mikey's chapped and cracked lips. "Get the shield." The man who seemed to lead the other two directed. As the others retrieved the shield from Mikey's back, the leader stood over him and stared at him with little emotion."How much do you know?"

Mikey spit at him, causing the man to reel back in surprise and disgust. "That's how much I know, you son of a bitch!" The man sighed and stepped closer, the rising sun behind him illuminating his face. Without warning, he slammed his foot onto Mikey's injured hand. He screamed out as the pain shot through his arm into his entire body. The night air was filled with the blood-curdling screams of Mikey as they pried him for answers. Mikey had none for them, all he had was the shield he had stolen for them.

The man chuckled and stared at the man that lay on the ground before him, tears covering his face as he had almost passed out from pain alone. "Well, it looks like you don't know anything after all. We longer have any use for you. Goodbye." The man raised his gun and placed the barrel against Mikey's right eye; Mikey's breathing quickened greatly. He couldn't believe it, he was going to be killed on an empty rooftop; far from his thoughts of him dying peacefully in a bed at old age. The hammer cocked backed loudly, and he could see a bullet load into the chamber.

"Those Shadow things will-" Mikey's head dropped to the roof, limp and lifeless as the bullet ripped through him. The leader scoffed and placed his gun back into its holster.

"Great. I got blood all over my favorite shirt."


	3. Never Trust A Hot Chick

**A/N: Has it been a long time? Yes, it sure as hell has. For all two that are actually anticipating this story, I apologize. School, and my other stories have been taking away from my time with this one. I'm sorry, and I'll try to not let over two months go by before I update this story again. ** **Anywho, here's chapter three of the first installment of the Blade of Destiny trilogy. You know the drill: If you like it, tell me. If you don't, tell me what I can do to make it better. Enjoy!

* * *

**

Blade of Destiny

Chapter 3: Never Trust A Hot Chick

"What do you mean you're cutting my funding?" The man exclaimed as he jumped up from his chair, glasses nearly falling off of his face. The large video screen lit his lightly wrinkled face in the darkened room.

"We cannot afford to fund this radical idea of yours, Doctor. You have been engaged in this research for over three years, and we have yet to see any results. Dr. Riley has been working on his genetic research for only eight months, and he's already made major breakthroughs," the darkened figure on the screen replied. It was accompanied by at least another six people, all covered in shadows.

"All I need is a little more time. My team has been desperately trying to translate the tablets that we recovered from the Alph ruins; not only that, but I will have the sword and shield within the week."

"Dr. Leto, we greatly appreciate your work that allowed us to begin Project Mewtwo so far back, and it was because of your previous success that we had even given such an outlandish theory any type of support," a feminine voice boomed through the screen. "However, how we can be expected to believe some kind of...fairy tale? I would expect that an educated man like you would not believe in such nonsense."

"Members of the Board please understand; with all of the strange events that have happened in the past few years, how can you not begin to believe? The Lugia incident in the Orange Islands, that crystal barrier that enclosed that mansion in the Johto region, and numerous other events has been appearing in the past ten years alone. There are rumors of Legendary Pokemon at almost every event; pokemon which have only been heard about in legends and folklore.

This is no coincidence; **something** is causing these pokemon to appear and with my research, I can figure out what that is. Dr. Riley is merely working with early specimens, and he has only had a handful of successful experiments so far. What I am offering to you is the world on a platter; the power to control the Legendaries and perhaps even the very elements themselves. All I need is your support."

The Board was quiet for a moment before the lead figure began to speak. "We will discuss this and put it to a vote. Give us a moment to confer." Dr. Leto nodded and sat down again, resting his head in his hands. The intercom placed on the conference table beeped loudly, producing an annoyed groan.

"What is it?" he snapped as he clicked the button and leaned back in his seat.

"Excuse me, Doctor, but it seems you have a visitor."

"No visitors today. I'm busy."

"Uh sir, she says she's been sent here directly from the Board." Leto sat up in his chair in surprise. _Why would they send someone here? She must be here to report to them on Riley's progress,_ he thought to himself as he clicked the button.

"Fine. Send her in," he ordered. Leaning back into his chair, he sighed and rubbed his temples. This job was getting too stressful; but he had to unlock this mystery of "The Guardians". He would go on with his research, whether the Board approved of him or not. With a loud hum, the large screen in front of him reactivated, flooding the room with light.

"We have discussed the issue and have reached a decision. We will grant you two extra months for your research. However, if you do not produce any type of results at the end of this extension, all of your funds and support will be cut; do you understand?" Dr. Leto nodded, turning around at the sound of the door behind him being opened.

"Ah, Agent Summers." Roxanne smirked as she took a seat in one the empty chairs at the conference table. Her green eyes glinted mischievously; sharp facial features gave a determined, yet playful look; a smile that would stab you in the back without a second thought. It was hard to not notice her beauty, though it was a look that screamed sexuality. He had heard about her; she was one of the three highest ranking women in Team Ultima and they commanded an amazing amount of pull throughout the organization.

All three of them knew that they were beautiful vixens, and they wielded that weapon almost as effectively as a gun, twisting almost any man they came across with ease. "Agent Summers will be stationed here at the Goldenrod facility for the time being. She is also the one we put in charge of your search of this sword and shield you are looking for," the screen explained as she leaned back in the chair and sighed.

"Yeah, and that shield should be here any minute now. I just received word that we now have this shield in our possession. We should have the sword in about a day or two. I'll be contacting the man who took it in a couple of days and get it from him," she said nonchalantly.

The Doctor nodded and smiled. "Good, that means we can begin experimenting right away. How long will you be gracing us with your presence, Agent Summers?"

"As long as it's required. Now, just what kind of experiments is this Dr. Riley working on exactly?"

* * *

May slowly stirred in her bed, the morning sunbeams gently brightening her face as she rose and grabbed her head. A fierce headache had taken hold of her; it seemed to throb and pulse at every thump of her own heartbeat. She groaned, and slowly slid out of bed, yanking open her nightstand and gulping down a couple of aspirin. "How in the hell did I get such a hangover? I didn't even have anything to drink last night," she wondered aloud, rummaging through her dresser, pulling out a pair of shorts and an old Pokemon League t-shirt. 

She did her best to ignore the pain in her head and somehow managed to drag herself out of the bedroom and into the living room, where her younger brother was sitting there, tapping at away at his laptop.

"Finally up, huh? It's about time; it's almost three o'clock," he said, never looking away from his computer screen. "Brock left some food out for you on the table. It's probably ice cold by now. How you feeling?" he remarked as he jerked his head to the nearby dining table.

May groaned and dumped herself into a chair. "Like I had a hell of a time last night. God, my head is killing me. I can barely talk without it starting to throb like crazy." Picking up a fork on the table, she dug it into the eggs that Brock had apparently prepared earlier. Max was right; it was ice cold as it slid down her throat. She really didn't mind though; she felt as if she hadn't eaten in weeks and quickly ate the meal.

"Strange. Both Ash and Brock were complaining about their heads hurting too. What was the last thing you remember?" May shrugged and dropped the fork onto the plate with a loud clang.

"Light. And lots of it. And...some strange sound. Like someone was talking, but I couldn't make it out. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed with a crazy hangover." Max raised an eyebrow at her recollection.

"Talking? What kind of talking?"

"I don't know...it was very soft, almost like a whisper. If you weren't really listening, it would be easy to miss. I couldn't tell what they were saying though." Max sighed and ran his hand across the sword, which lay across the table he was sitting at, unsheathed and gleaming in the morning light.

"I remember the light too, but I didn't pass out. Neither did Ash; it just you and Brock. Although, Ash did say he saw a light too when he first reached out to grab the sword in the museum. His vision got real blurry and his head started hurting, but he didn't pass out." Max's eyes fell to the weapon and narrowed. "There's something about this sword, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I've been searching all night for some kind of info on this thing."

May moved across the room and plopped onto the couch. "What did you find?" Max shook his head.

"That's the thing. All night searching and I didn't find a damn thing. I checked everywhere: Pewter Museum of Natural History, Pokemon League records, archaeological accounts and digs; hell, I even tried Google. Nothing. It's like this thing doesn't even exist or something."

May shrugged and leaned back onto the couch. "Well, it's not gonna be our problem for too long. That thing's getting sold and we can move on. Don't worry about it." Her brother shook his head sighed. "Hey, where are Ash and Brock anyway?"

"They're off visiting his mother. Said they'd be back in a couple of hours."

* * *

The afternoon sun shone brightly over the building as a young LSF agent climbed the ladder to its rooftop. The wind whipped his short light brown hair fiercely, slightly stinging his face. "When did you find the body?" 

The lean, tall Fuchsia police officer climbed over the roof and held out a hand to him, hauling his body over the top of the building. The cop's brow furrowed as he thought of the answer to his question. "About noon. One of the window washers was heading out for his daily duties and found the poor bastard here. Don't see the reason to call in the Special Forces though; seems to be just a normal homicide to me."

He stopped to catch his breath for a moment and raised a hand to his face, trying to shield his eyes from the punishing rays of the sun. "Where's the officer in charge here?" The cop pointed to an older man with graying hair standing near the yellow police tape that obviously surrounded the body.

"Detective Scott. And you are...?" The cop held out his hand in a friendly gesture.

"Harrison; Agent Harrison Fields," he replied as he shook the policeman's hand. He nodded and led the way to Detective Scott, trying to push his way through the various officers, photographers and forensic investigators.

"Uh, Detective Scott? We got an agent from the LSF here to talk to you." The detective turned around and chuckled lightly. His face was surprisingly youthful, which in a deep contrast to his heavily graying hair.

"What the hell is LSF doing here?" Harrison cleared his throat and held his hand out. Scott simply looked at him for a moment, until Harrison pulled his arm. "Since when did Special Forces start hiring kids? This isn't CSI, boy; you know what you're doing?" he asked suspiciously.

Harrison nodded and glanced over at the body behind the elderly police officer. It was not a pretty sight: blood was all over the rooftop and unfortunately, where his right eye was supposed to have been, there was now a gaping bloody hole. Scott noticed Harrison's shocked expression and chuckled.

"Three gunshot wounds. One to the left calf, one to the right wrist, and obviously, one fired into his right eye. We found a gun near the body; it belonged to the victim. Of course, as you saw on the way up here, there was more than that. At least four bodies in that exploded car on the street and the dead Houndoom with a bullet through its brain. Something big went down here last night and you just confirmed that by you being here."

Harrison knelt down and closely examined the body and cursed quietly. "We were tracking him for some time. He's Michael Richards; responsible for a rash of high profile thefts in the past few years. He had just taken a shield a few weeks ago, and I was heading down here to check out a lead."

"I guess that's gone bust. You think somebody killed him over this shield?" Harrison shrugged.

"Doubt it. The shield was valuable, but something worth killing over. Maybe he just upset some rivals and they took their opportunity to take him out of the picture. Either way, I'd say he got messed up pretty bad," he commented. He turned to leave before stopping and turning back around.

"Here. If you happen to come across some interesting info, give me a ring," Harrison said as he handed Detective Scott a business card. The detective nodded and took it, shoving it into his pocket.

"I'll be sure to do that."

* * *

Brock leaned against his car, lighting a cigarette that was dangling in his mouth and sighed. He hated cemeteries; just the sight of them was enough to bring down a good mood. They seemed so grim and bleak, just the air around it seemed to get darker, even on a bright sunny day. He wondered to himself why the hell he even stepped foot in this place, but the answer stood about twenty or thirty feet away from him, placing flowers on top of a headstone. 

He took a long drawl from his cigarette and exhaled, the light breeze carrying away the smoke into the air. He knew how he felt. He too, had lost a mother, although it was a considerably younger age than he was. Regardless, it was still the loss of a mother. He never went to the gravestone with him; Brock felt like this was a time for him to be alone with his thoughts. Ash had taken his mother's death awfully hard, and though he had gotten better, Brock could tell the scars were still there.

The look in his eyes when Ash showed up at his front door that day, they told the whole story to him before Ash could even manage to choke out a word. He could see it; the confusion, the sorrow that poured from his eyes along with the tears. Now, as he began to walk back into the car, Brock could still see that scared and confused child inside of him.

"What the hell are you staring at?" Ash said as soon as he was within earshot of his best friend. Brock took one last puff of his cigarette and tossed the butt away.

"Nothing much, apparently," he replied with a grin as he climbed into the car and started the ignition. Ash rolled his eyes and adjusted the tie on his black suit, eliciting a groan from Brock.

"Hey, James Bond. This isn't GQ; get your scrawny ass in the car." Ash laughed and sat down in the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.

"You're just mad cause I look better than you, that's all," Ash retorted. Brock scoffed loudly and pulled the car out of the cemetery and onto the highway. The drive was silent as their chuckles died down and Ash stared out the window.

Brock opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the shrill ringing of a cellular phone. The sound of Ash rummaging through his pockets and the click of the phone flipping open broke the silence.

"Hello?...Yeah, this is Ash...oh hello...yes it was hell getting it, but it's in our possession; when are you planning to buy?" Ash said into the small device. "Today? Well, that's sooner than we expected, but it's certainly agreeable. All right, we'll meet you there in half an hour." The phone closed with a snap and Ash chuckled as he placed the phone back into his pocket.

Brock glanced at him for a moment then back at the road. "Well?" Ash grinned and leaned back into the seat.

"Swing by Max's. We've got a sword to sell."

* * *

Quietly, a small blue sports car pulled into the empty and desolate construction site and parked in the middle of a large clearing. Two figures stepped out, one of them carrying a long object in a black sheath. "How do I look?" Ash pulled his shades down and smiled. 

"Great. Now let's go get our cash." Ash's nose twitched as he tried to fight off a sneeze; an effect of the sawdust that lingered in the air like a veil. Aimlessly, they wandered through the site for a good ten minutes before Ash groaned.

"Where the hell is she?" he said exasperatedly. As if on cue, they both heard a shuffling noise above them, causing them to whirl around with their hands on their weapons.

"I'm right here. There's no need to pull out your guns," said Roxanne as she stepped out from the rafters above. Brock's eyes widened as a whistle escaped his lips.

"Damn," was all he could after laying eyes on her figure. Ash nodded; he had to admit, she was extremely attractive. Brock cleared his throat and desperately tried to regain his composure. "We have the sword. Where's the money?"

A sly smirk crept across her ruby lips as she snapped her fingers, a young man quickly coming out with a large briefcase. Both Ash and Brock grinned from ear to ear as the briefcase was snapped open and row after row of green bills were shown. "Of course, that's just your down payment." She snapped her fingers again, and two more men carrying briefcases appeared, displaying even more money to them. "50 million. Does that about cover it?"

They both nodded vigorously, drawing a smile from her face. Brushing a hair behind her ear, she grinned and looked at Ash. "My, my, such a handsome thief. I hope you don't steal my heart while you're at it," she said suggestively.

Ash shook his head and raised his hands. "Sorry lady, I'm taken. But my good friend Brock here is completely single." Roxanne pouted and leaned forward onto the metal bar in front of her.

"Aww, that's too bad. Your girlfriend doesn't have to know about it, you know...," she said again.

"Sorry, but no." Roxanne sighed and glanced at Brock before chuckling.

"Sorry, but I like the feisty ones." Brock sighed and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm pretty used to rejection now. Can we have our money now?" he questioned impatiently. She smiled brightly and promptly shook her head.

"No, I don't think so." Both of them glanced at each other for a moment before returning to Roxanne.

"Excuse me?" Suddenly, out of nowhere, a long pink object shot out of nowhere and latched itself to the sword in Ash's hands. It yanked fiercely, almost ripping the weapon from Ash's hands.

Brock instantly yanked his gun from the holster inside of his suit jacket and aimed it at Roxanne. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded as Ash struggled with the object that was attached to the sword. Finally, grabbed it and ripped it off only to have it stick to his hand.

A sticky substance like glue was covering it, causing it to adhere to his palm. He yanked his hand back and a loud screech echoed through the site as the air in front of him began to materialize into a small green figure, the pink object in his hand originating from its mouth. "A Kecleon!" Ash exclaimed. The pokemon was notorious for its camouflage abilities and it had blended so well into the air that not even the yellow band that usually was visible when camouflaged had even disappeared.

Brock kept his gun leveled at Roxanne and growled. "What the hell is your problem, lady?" Soon, men everywhere began appearing from the rafters aiming their machine guns at them. Brock silently swore; they were surrounded completely.

"My problem is the fact that you're still alive. I must say, you guys are very skilled if you could escape a building filled with League Special Forces; however, you put a serious monkey wrench into my plans by surviving. Now if you don't mind, we'll be taking the sword now."

Brock quickly tossed a glance at Ash who nodded at him slightly. Brock blinked; he knew Ash had something in mind. He would just have to catch on quickly. Swiftly, Ash grabbed the tongue of the Kecleon and whipped the pokemon into the rafters and yanked his hand backwards, ripping the creature's tongue from his palm.

The pokemon squealed loudly as it flew through the air and collided with a man standing next to Roxanne. "Now!" Ash yelled as he pulled out his own gun and the both of them began firing at the woman and her companions above them. Instantly, the tranquil area erupted into a war zone, with bullets flying everywhere as the two of them hid behind a pillar.

"Do you have any of your pokemon with you, Brock!" Ash yelled over the gunfire. Brock shook his head. "I forgot mine at Max's!" he screamed again as he popped out and fired a few more shots from his handgun.

"We've gotta get to the car and get the hell outta here! We're dead for sure if we stay here for too much longer!" Suddenly, a loud screeching of tires against pavement echoed from the outside of the site. They both spotted a bright red sports car tearing out of the area and into the streets.

"Fifty bucks says that's the bitch that set us up!" Brock yelled. "Let's make a run for it!" Ash nodded peeked his head out, only to have another volley of gunfire erupt in his direction.

"I got an idea."

* * *

Brandon loved his job. Team Ultima had to be the best to ever happen to him; free food and lodging, nice cars, and he was even paid to blow shit up. It was the life; go on a mission, come back, find a nice piece of ass and have some fun. In fact, he was in the middle of screwing around when he got called out to this mission today. He reloaded his gun and aimed at the pillar and smiled as he saw a black figure dart out from behind. 

Instantly, he emptied his clip into it and smiled; he was also the top marksman at his outpost. The figure collapsed to the ground, sending a cloud of sawdust into the air. "Wait a second..." he said as the air around the figure began to settle; lying on the floor was a black suit jacket. By the time he realized it was a decoy, one of them stepped out and held his gun out in front of him. "Shit." He had no time to reload as a flash emerged from the firearm and his chest exploded in pain.

He cursed loudly and collapsed to the floor holding his chest, letting his gun fall to the floor with a clatter. Glancing down, he saw blood pouring out of the bullet wound in his chest and glanced at one of his comrades. The man merely gave him a blank look and kept firing at the two men. As his vision began to blur and darken, he could only say one thing:

"Something told me to bring that vest."

* * *

"Come on, we gotta get outta here!" Brock yelled as he fired at the men above them and turned to the car. Ash nodded and sprinted to the vehicle, yelling as the lead ricocheted off the concrete near his feet with a loud ping. Blindly, he fired behind him and didn't stop until he heard the click of an empty chamber. 

"Get in!" He slid over the hood of the car and quickly hopped in. His partner fiercely yanked open the door and leapt in also, slamming his keys into the ignition. With a roar, the engine came to life and Brock slammed on the gas. Bullets bounced off of the body of the vehicle, causing them to duck instinctively as Brock tore out of the site.

The car slid out of the site and screamed down the street as Ash checked the sword in his hand for any damage. "Did you see where she went?" Brock nodded and threw the steering wheel, swerving the car to the left onto a new street. "She couldn't have gotten too far; she only left two or three minutes before us."

Brock nodded and scanned the traffic for the bright red sports car that he saw tear out of the parking lot. His narrowed as he saw a flash of red go through the intersection to the right. "That's her!" Instantly, he threw his foot onto the pedal and swerved around the traffic in front of them into the busy intersection. Horns blared and tires screeched as the drifted through the intersection, narrowly missing an accident with the oncoming traffic.

"Jesus Christ, Brock! We almost got killed back there!" Brock ignored him and stepped on the gas even harder, bringing the vehicle to over 100 miles an hour. The world outside began to blur as their speed picked up. Ash took a deep breath and clipped no his seat belt; Brock was a good driver, but even he didn't know if his friend could take these kind of speeds.

The car pulled even with the red car and Brock glanced at the driver; finding the traitorous woman looking at them with a surprised expression on their face. "Ash, you better hang on." Ash looked at him with a confused look on his face.

"What exactly are you going to-," he was interrupted as the car jerked sharply to the left, ramming the red car. Brock was trying to run her off of the road; Ash opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short as their car shook fiercely as she returned the favor, the screech of metal against metal almost drowning out the roaring engine. She swerved to the left onto a new street and zoomed up the feeder into Cerulean Expressway.

Brock growled and followed suit, pulling into the crowded highway. Both cars engaged in a dangerous game of cat and mouse as the two vehicles weaved through traffic at breakneck speeds, narrowly avoiding the cars who desperately tried to move out of the way of the battling vehicles. "Ash, can you get a bead on her?" he said calmly as they swerved past a large SUV.

"No way. There's too many cars; I could hit one of them easily." Brock cursed and continued his chase after her. The car pulled behind her and Brock slammed the car into her again, hoping to make her fishtail and spin out on the highway. "What the hell is she doing?" Ash wondered as he saw her peek her head out of the vehicle, long black flapping wildly in the fierce wind.

Her hand appeared outside of the window carrying a small pistol. It held as steady as possible in the rushing wind and jerked backwards from the recoil. Swiftly, the hand disappeared back into the car, which quickly swerved to the right and sped off. "Brock she's get-," Ash stopped as her plan became all too clear.

A large eighteen wheeler was hauling loads of chains and massive steel spindles on its bed, apparently for the construction of the new freeway that was not too far from their location. A series of metal chains held them down in place, and she had just shot off one of them. The contents of the bed rattled turbulently as the other chains struggled to hold down the immense weight. "Brock, get out of th-," he screamed as the chains snapped.

Slowly at first, the spindles began to roll backwards and clatter to the concrete highway, violently rumbling the expressway. Both of them screamed as Brock desperately, tried to avoid the gigantic metal bars by swerving left and right. One headed straight for them, which Brock frantically dodged. The object rushed past Ash's window, rattling it with the force of wind that it created.

It careened down the highway and slammed into a car, shattering it like tissue paper. Glass and metal shrapnel launched into the air along with the vehicle, and smashed back into the pavement, sliding across the freeway. Car horns blared and the sound of tires screeching to a halt filled the freeway as others desperately tried to avoid both the car and the objects that were being hurled at them.

A stray chain smashed against the windshield, cracking it instantly. "Brock, get us off of this goddamn highway! We stay here any longer and we're gonna get killed!" Ash frantically screamed at his best friend.

"I can't see! The damn chain is making it impossible for me to even the fucking street!" he yelled back as he blindly swerved to the left. His heart pounded as the whistled loudly to his left; another chain had barely missed them. "I can't dodge these things forever!" he yelled.

One lone chain rattled on the now empty bed, refusing to be carried away by the winds. It held on dearly, clattering against the wooden bed; but nothing can resist nature for long. With one last gust of wind, it disconnected and sailed into the air before crashing to the concrete and sliding across the pavement. It slid under a car and wrapped around the crankshaft under a vehicle, causing it to jam and hurl the car into the air.

The last thing Ash and Brock saw was the concrete rushing up to meet them as the car collided with the highway.

* * *

"Move out of the way! LSF, move!" she yelled as she shoved her way through the pandemonium on the freeway. A major accident had occurred on the Cerulean Expressway, and the call went out for all available law enforcement to the area. Misty groaned and shoved another person out of the way; she had just come home to visit her sisters, and this had to happen. 

_Can't I ever catch a break?_, she thought to herself. It was a mess; sixteen car wrecks, and the traffic was backed up for at least the four miles. The ground beneath her crackled as she stepped over shattered glass that littered the pavement. Finally, she spotted one of the Cerulean PD and tapped his shoulder.

He spun around and rolled his eyes. "Look lady, you're gonna have to get back, ok? This is a very dangerous situation." Misty promptly flashed her LSF badge, bringing a look of surprise on the policeman's. "Special Forces? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was here visiting family when the call went out, not that it's any of your damn business. What's the situation?" The cop sighed and waved his hands around him.

"Are you blind? We've had a massive accident. Apparently, one of the chains on an eighteen wheeler snapped and let loose all of these huge spindles and chains you see around here." He opened his mouth to explain more, but was cut off by a loud commotion behind them.

"Hey, we got somebody alive over here!" a voice called out near an overturned vehicle. Misty and the cop rushed over the vehicle and helped the group of men that were dragging two men's bodies out of the wreck. They were both covered with scratches and bruises, and seemed to be unconscious, but they were alive.

"Thank god there are some survivors," the cop said as Misty walked up to examine the faces of the men. Misty glanced at the face of the lighter man with black hair and her heart skipped a beat. The crazy black hair, the slim but athletic frame, even the "z" shaped birthmarks on his cheeks. She looked at his companion and gasped as the realization hit her.

Tanned face, slanted eyes and huge muscles; she was speechless. "A...Ash?" she said timidly, as if the man would wake up instantly and confirm her suspicions. Even though it had been eight years, she could still recognize them.

"What in the hell?" a man said as he pulled out a long black object out of the car and held it up. He grabbed the handle and pulled, revealing a sparkling crystal blade that shimmered in the sunlight. One of the cops whistled loudly.

"Think he got that from Ebay?"


	4. Old Buddies

Blade of Destiny

Chapter 4: Old Buddies

"Are the lines secured?" The voice caused Ash's eyes to snap open, his body jerked upwards as he awoke. "I want this entire city surrounded by our men, understand? Nothing must get through our defenses!" Ash rose to his feet and took in his surroundings; and almost collapsed again. He was positioned on a hill, overlooking a massive city that he had never seen before.

Huge stone buildings and temples dominated the skyline, stretching up into the darkened sky above them. Most of the buildings were so humongous that they dwarfed even the Pokemon League Coliseum in size. "Satoshi! What are you doing!" All Ash could do was stare in disbelief at the metropolis that lay before him, until he was vigorously shaken from behind.

"Satoshi, will you stop? This is not a time to be playing!" Ash didn't get a chance to respond before he was whirled around. A young man, presumably around his age, was staring into his eyes with anger. "We need you on the front lines! You and Kurogane need to support the troops up there; they won't be able to hold the Legacy Beasts at bay for long without your help!"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Ash asked, confused. The young man opened his mouth to answer, but soon the wind began to pick up. It began as a light breeze at first, but quickly transformed into a whirling gale that whipped the young man's silver hair across his eyes.

"Damn! I thought we had more time! Satoshi, stop playing around and get down there now!" The skies darkened as the silver-haired man dashed off down the hill towards the huge city below, yelling orders to random people below them. Suddenly, a sound began to well up from around them. It started out as a low whine, but began to grow louder and louder into a piercing screech.

A thin, black line appeared in the horizon, growing with the skull splitting screech that seemed to keep getting louder and louder. Ash collapsed to the grass below him as the sound filled his head, echoing in his skull, and overloading his senses.

The noise was so intense, almost blinding him as he screamed out in agony, only to be drowned out by the horrific screeching around him.

* * *

"You're positive that thesword is the same one stolen from the museum?" The officer nodded and leaned against the wall.

"Positive, Agent Waterflower. You couldn't fake an object like that if you tried. We've called Agent Oak for a 100 ID, but that's pretty much formalities for the paperwork. Those two you found are your thieves, no doubt about it," he commented as he pointed through the glass to the sleeping figure behind it.

Misty sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Have you found an ID on them?" she asked, still clinging to shred of hope that those two weren't who she thought they were. The officer shook his head.

"Nope, we've been searching through the database, but nothing's turned up yet. But you know how huge that damn thing is; it could take us two weeks to even find a 60 match possibility."

"Thank you. You can go back up front now, but I'd like to be informed when Agent Oak arrives." The officer nodded and turned, walking down the narrow, white hallway, leaving Misty alone staring through the glass. She sighed again and entered the small room, taking a seat next to the bed.

She examined his body again, trying to find any sign that would tell her if that wasn't who she thought it was. "Dammit Ash, this better not be you. I'm gonna kick your ass if it is," she said to herself quietly, snuggling into her chair. She watched his chest rest rise and fall with each breath, accompanied by the constant beeping of the heart monitor beside him.

Her mind soon filled with memories from when she was younger, traveling around and just going on those stupid adventures, enjoying every moment with her friends. By her last count, it had been eight years since they last saw each other at the Hoenn League Championships. She chuckled as she remembered that last time the whole group was together; how Brock had gotten a taste of a Nurse Joy's taser after he had come on a little too strong for her taste.

The sound of a low groan snapped her from her thoughts as she jerked her head towards the figure on the bed that began to rouse from its sleep. Slowly, his eyes opened and looked around, examining their surroundings, before finally falling on Misty.

_Will he even remember me? It has been a long time..._, she thought to herself as he sat up in his bed and yawned.

"Um, who are you?" he asked bluntly, causing her to roll her eyes. _Obviously not,_ she thought again, sitting up in her seat. "Well, I am a League Special Forces Agent. You were involved in an accident on the Cerulean Expressway three hours ago. I'm here to ask you some questions."

He raised his eyebrow and leaned back into his bead. "Where is my friend?" he demanded coldly.

"He is fine; in fact he's in the room right next to you. Do you remember your name?" He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Of course, I'm not an amnesiac. It's A-," he abruptly stopped mid-sentence and folded his arms across his chest. "You know what? I plead the fifth. I don't feel comfortable disclosing that kind of information." He smirked and opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by the door opening behind Misty.

"Yo Mist, what's the deal? I got this urgent call about an ID or something," Gary said as he closed the door behind him and glanced at Ash in the bed. "Who's this?" Ash's eyes lit up as the nasally sound of Gary's voice reached his ears, but quickly returned his expression to normal, hoping the others didn't see it.

Misty cleared her throat and sat up in her chair. "Well, there was a huge accident over on the Cerulean Expressway. This is one of the survivors. But you'll never guess what we happened to find there in the wreckage." Reaching over to a table next to the bed, she pulled out a small folder and flipped through the pages. 'Tell me sir, how much do you know about the robbery that occurred at the Pewter City museum a few days ago?"

"Only what I've heard on the news," Ash replied coolly, not liking where this conversation was heading. "Excuse me, but why are you asking me these questions? I'd like to rest and not be badgered by false accusations from some secret agent wannabe, thank you very much."

Gary raised his brow in recognition at Ash's snappy remark. "Hey, you watch your mouth; you are talking to a League Special Forces agent here." Ash scoffed and leaned back in his bed.

"Your forces can't be too special if one man escaped from a fully armed strike team in a locked down building. Maybe you guys should go and find some useful recruits. Now, I'm done with the questions; goodbye," he dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Misty growled and threw the folder onto Ash's lap and rose from her seat. "Then maybe you'd like to explain why the very sword that was stolen from the museum was found in your trunk on the highway!" Photos of Ash and Brock's wrecked vehicle spilled out from the folder all over his sheets and Ash cursed internally. "I'm waiting for an explanation here, Mr. **Ash Ketchum**."

Misty noted the shocked expression on Ash's face and growled. Gary looked at Misty then Ash with a surprised expression. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are you talking about, Misty? Ash! As in Ash Ketchum!" Misty shook her head and pointed at Ash's cheeks.

"Those birthmarks...that and your cocky ass attitude are what gave you away. What the hell are you thinking, Ash! What would possess you to do something like this! I never would have thought in a million years that you would even **consider** doing something like this!"

Ash folded his arms over his chest. "And who the hell are you to dictate to me about my life? As a matter of fact, who the hell are you anyway!" he demanded. Misty sighed and reached inside of her pocket, pulling out an ID.

"I'm Agent Misty Waterflower and this is Agent Gary Oak. Ashton Satoshi Ketchum, you are under arrest for evading arrest, assault with a deadly weapon, robbery, battery, and a whole slew of other charges that I won't even dare to bring to bring up. Do you have anything to say before I read you your rights and take you into our custody?"

Ash just sat there, dumbstruck. "You have got to be freaking kidding me."

* * *

Max yawned and stretched in his chair, each vertebrae slipping back into its rightful spot in his spine with a loud crack. May turned her head from the glowing screen of the television with a look of disgust. "Do you have to do that? That's so disgusting."

He nodded with a grin. "Yup. I know you hate it, so I keep doing it." He was answered with the rolling of his older sister's eyes and she turned back to the TV, turning it up louder, hopefully drowning out her older brother. "Geez, it's been almost five hours. I know it doesn't take that long to drive out to Cerulean and cut a deal," Max complained as he began tapping away at his laptop again.

"Then call their cell phones, genius. See where they are." Now it was Max's turn to roll his eyes.

"Thanks for stating the blatantly obvious there, May. What makes you think I haven't tried that already? I've been calling them for the past two hours and no answer. I'm starting to get a little worried." May dismissed his notions with a wave of her hand.

"They're probably just screwing around like they always do. I'm kinda enjoying the silence around here. At least I would be, if you wouldn't stop bothering me with your disgusting habits and crap."

"Yeah well, you never hear me complaining with all that noise you and Ash make at night..." he grumbled quietly. May snapped her head in Max's direction.

"What did you say?" Max looked up with surprise from his computer screen, amazed she even heard him.

"Huh?"

"You heard me. What did you say?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't say anything," he insisted.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't. Wait, why the hell am I arguing with you like a five year old? I didn't say anything. Let it go." Soon, both of them began arguing each other back and forth, paying no attention to the small yellow creature that emerged from Ash's bedroom and yawned loudly, smacking its lips and plopping in front of the television.

Pikachu sighed as it scooted closer to the TV, unable to hear from their constant arguing. It was a natural occurrence; arguments broke out regularly, over almost anything. The pokemon watched as the news appeared on the screen, flashing pictures of a huge accident on a freeway.

"This is the site of a massive pileup on the Cerulean Expressway today after the bindings on an eighteen-wheeler snapped, sending over 20 tons worth of steel spindles hurling through the crowded freeway. There have been reports of up to eight deaths, and the injured count is in the dozens," the feminine news anchor reported. Pikachu's ears perked up instantly.

"Pikapi!" the small rodent exclaimed, trying to catch the two bickering humans' attention. Neither of them even cast a second glance, too caught up in their own argument to pay any attention. "Chu pika, ka chu!" It screeched even louder, even waving its arms as it yelled at the two siblings. Still, they would not acknowledge it. Pikachu growled and clenched its cheeks, the bright red spots gathering up electric energy.

"PIKA!" it yelled as it released the electricity, arcing through the air and connecting with the two bodies, eliciting cries of pain and surprise from them. May whirled around at Pikachu and glared at the rodent.

"What the hell is your problem, Pikachu!" she yelled, only to be answered by a loud cry from the pokemon as it pointed a tiny yellow paw to the television screen.

"Surprisingly, the pileup is not the real story in Cerulean today. One of the wrecked vehicles was found containing the sword that was stolen from the Pewter Museum of Natural History. The CPD and League Special Forces currently have the owners of the vehicle in their custody at the Cerulean General Hospital. In other news..."

Both May and Max stared at the TV screen incredulously as Pikachu scampered back into the bedroom. "Oh no. What are we gonna do? The LSF has got Ash and Brock locked down in that hospital. We gotta find some way to get them outta there," May stated as she slumped into the couch.

"Are you insane? That building's gotta be completely loaded with police and LSF agents by now. There's no way we can get them out," Max answered with a sigh. As if on cue, Pikachu bounded out of the bedroom with a small device in its mouth, which it promptly spat out onto May's lap. May looked down; he had retrieved her cell phone. The words "Dialing..." appeared on the bright color screen as she picked it up and placed it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked, asked Pikachu leapt onto the couch with her.

"Yeah, what's up, May?" the voice replied. May's eyes lit up as she smiled and patted Pikachu on the head.

"Hey Ritchie...can you do me a favor?"

* * *

Brock sighed as he stared at the blank white wall across from him for the umpteenth time today. He had completely lost track of all time he had spent in the uncomfortable hospital bed. He had woken up to a group of police officers, all who began questioning him about the events at the Pewter Museum.

Naturally, he kept his mouth shut, and insisted that he knew nothing. Soon, a cute redhead and some guy with an attitude problem burst into his room, demanding all he knew about the sword and the museum. Brock didn't even have to come up with a fake alibi before he was placed under arrest by them and told that he would be transferred to the League Special Forces HQ in Viridian City after he had been thoroughly checked out.

Probably the only highlight of his day had to be the cute Nurse Joy that came in to check him out. Naturally, he turned on the charm, only to be answered with a blunt, "I don't date convicts." At least he had found out that Ash was alright as well. Unfortunately, now they were waiting for some kind of transport to take to him and Ash to Viridian, and they had no way of escaping from the hospital. They had posted two armed guards outside of his door, and while he was sure he could take those two, he had no idea many were just waiting around the corner. He probably wouldn't get two feet down the hallway.

"Crap," he said to himself as the realization of how serious their situation was sunk in. So, all he could do was stare at the wall, waiting for the inevitable call. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock on his door. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing an armed officer at the doorframe.

"Let's go, buddy." Brock groaned as he sat up in his bed.

"I don't even get my clothes back?" he asked as he pointed at the thin hospital gown adorning his body. The cop shook his head.

"What, do I look like an idiot?" Brock smirked and pulled himself out of the bed.

"Kinda, yeah." The officer's face darkened at his smart-ass remark and pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs.

"We got about four other guys just waiting outside this door, so don't try anything, got it?" he retorted as he snapped the handcuffs around Brock's wrists. Brock grinned.

"Wouldn't dream of it. The handcuffs are a little tight, buddy." The cop narrowed his eyes at him and pointed towards the hallway.

"I'll remember to report that to Officer Like I Give A Damn," he snapped. "Let's go." Brock shook his head and walked out into the hallway, where he was quickly surrounded by four other armed police officers.

The lead officer nodded. "Where's the other one?" The cop that handcuffed Brock shook his head.

"We decided to transfer them at separate times. Ol' Squinty here's going first." The other officers chuckled at his statement as the lead cop shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright. Let's go," he directed as the group began to escort him through the winding hallways of the building. For forever it seemed, and down hallways that looked exactly the same, they escorted him to his transport. "Right around this corner," the lead cop directed, and the group rounded the corner, stopping in front of a large set of double doors.

The lead officer pulled out a walkie-talkie and clicked the button. "We're outside the garage. Is the transport there?" he inquired. As he released the button, all that replied was static. "I repeat, we are outside of the garage. Is anyone out there?" Still nothing but static.

"What's going on out there?" The group fell silent as the lead officer decided on their next course of action. "Hey...what's that beeping sound?"

"What are you talking about?" another officer answered.

"Something's beeping. It's really faint, but I can hear it." The officers grew quiet as they searched for the sound. Faintly, a beeping sound drifted through the wall in front of them. "What the he-," he said before the wall in front of them exploded, sending plaster and debris flying through the hallway and the group soaring through the air and crashing to the hard tile of the hallway floor.

"Shit! Call backup!" an officer exclaimed as he reached for his gun. Suddenly, a loud crackling sound floated through the air, and a large stream of electricity surged through the air and struck his body. Instantly, the man's body froze in place, his surprised eyes the only part moving.

"Everybody fall back! Henderson, call for backup immediately!" A voice broke out through the dust fallout of the explosion as a figure stepped through the newly made hole in the wall.

"Brock, duck!" Instantly, Brock dove to the floor and covered his head with his handcuffed hands. "Sparky, Thunder Wave!" the voice ordered, followed by a loud squeak.

The crackling sound of electricity filled the air again, and a large wave of energy washed over Brock and struck the other four standing officers directly. Their bodies also froze immediately, fixated in one spot. "You alright, dude?"

Brock shook his head as the figure broke through the smoke, revealing a face that had a remarkable resemblance to his own best friend. A small Pikachu scampered up to his side, a small tuft of hair hung over its hazel eyes. "Ritchie! How the hell did you know to come here!" he exclaimed as he hopped to his feet.

Ritchie brushed a hand through his brown hair and chuckled. "Eh, I was just in the neighborhood, so I decided to drop by." He reached behind his back and tossed a pistol to Brock, who promptly caught it. Ritchie slung the submachine gun around his shoulder as Brock cocked the weapon and fired a bullet at the chain connecting his handcuffs, snapping it instantly.

"Nice outfit," Ritchie sarcastically commented, glancing at Brock current state of dress.

"Shut up."

"So, where's the other one?" Brock shrugged.

"I have no clue. We're gonna have to look for him." Ritchie groaned and started dashing down the hallway.

"Well, let's get going. Our ride's gonna be here real soon."

"How soon?" Ritchie glanced at his watch, and turned back to Brock.

"About three minutes. So, at least got a general idea of where he might be?" Brock rounded a corner, and skidded to a halt on the tile floor. Ritchie dashed right behind him and stopped also, bumping into Brock. The hallway in front of them was filled with at least gun-wielding police officers, all of their weapons set on the two of them.

"Oh boy," Brock commented.

"Well, at least we know we're going the right way. Sparky, Flash!" The small Pikachu nodded and released a huge amount of electricity, generating a blinding light that filled the narrow hallway. Brock and Ritchie turned their heads and shielded their eyes from the blinding glow as the surprised yells of the now sightless police officers echoed through the hallway.

Almost as quickly as it came, the light waned and disappeared, revealing the police officers blindly groping about, struggling to find their way. Ritchie grinned and plowed through them, swinging his fist into any man unfortunate enough to venture close to him. Brock and Sparky followed close behind, clearing a path through the hallway; Brock using his strength to swing the poor souls into the walls, knocking them out instantly, while Sparky let bolts of electricity fly through the confined space.

Ritchie turned around to view the group's handiwork; all ten of the cops were lying on the floor, unconscious. He glanced at his watch, and cursed. "Come on! We got about two minutes left!"

"Where are we being picked up at?" Brock asked as he led the way through the labyrinth of white hallways, trying best he could to remember the way he came from.

"We're gonna give out a signal, and we'll get picked up. But I told them that if don't give the signal in...," he looked at his watch, "two minutes and fifteen seconds, that I was probably captured and to get the hell out of here." The duo rounded another corner, Sparky scampering behind them.

"Ok, if I remember right, our rooms should be right around this corner," Brock gasped between gulps of air.

"And if we're not in the right place?"

"Then this will be the last time you'll see the outside of a prison for a long time." The both of them looked at each other for a moment, and nodded, breaking around the corner in a full blown dash. Brock grinned as they saw a group of armed guards standing outside of a door.

They still had about another two seconds before the group would realize the two figures tearing down the hallway at them, which was all the time they needed. "Sparky, Quick Attack, now!"

Instantly, the small yellow rodent pumped its legs even harder, easily passing up the sprinting humans and quickly approaching the armed police officers. The world around it blurred as it reached inhuman speeds, zooming down the hallway. The red spots crackled and sparked as the Pikachu gathered up electric energy into its cheeks.

As soon the first cop turned around, Sparky leapt to its right and rebounded off of the nearby wall before spinning around and smacking the guard in his face with its tail. The guard flew back and slammed into the floor as Sparky bounced off of the opposite wall and landed on the ground, releasing the electricity onto the stunned men, incapacitating three more of them.

As the two remaining cops raised their weapons, they never saw Brock and Ritchie close in from behind. Brock reared back and landed a crushing blow to the base of the man's skull, knocking him out instantly. Simultaneously, Ritchie placed his palm on the other man's face and slammed his temple into the wall, knocking him unconscious also.

"Wow," Brock commented, his whole body shaking from the adrenaline that was rushing through his veins.

"What?" Ritchie asked, panting heavily while Sparky stood by his side, doing the same.

"That was fun." Ritchie chuckled and pointed towards the door that the officers were guarding.

"This it?" Brock shrugged.

"I guess so," he answered as he viciously kicked the door open, almost sending it off of its hinges. Ritchie entered and laughed at the shocked look on Ash's face as he was leaning over the open window, tying a rope made from ripped bed sheets.

"Did you really think that puny ass rope was gonna get you down five stories, Ash? Thank god we got here when we did. Otherwise, you'd be hanging out the window with your bare ass flapping in the wind in that bed sheet you're wearing."

"Ritchie, what the hell are you doing here! And Brock, how'd you get out!" Ash exclaimed as Ritchie reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small silver disc.

"We can explain all that crap later. Right now, we need to get the hell out of here. You guys stand back," he instructed as he slapped the disc onto the window and pushed a series of buttons. The small disc beeped loudly as Ritchie ran back and shoved Brock and Ash behind the bed, shielding them as the disc exploded, sending glass and plaster hurtling into the air.

The bed flew backwards from the shockwave of the blast, almost falling on top of the trio huddling behind it. All three of them cautiously peeped over the bed, examining the damage. A whole section of the wall was completely obliterated, with rubble and shattered glass littering the floor.

"Where the hell did you get those things!" Ash exclaimed.

"I made 'em. They're as powerful as C4, but with a chemical timer built into the explosive itself, so you don't have to worry about someone disabling the detonator. And they're extremely portable, so I can carry a bunch of them without having to worry about being slowed down by their weight." Ritchie turned to Sparky and pointed towards the newly made hole. "Give them the signal!"

Sparky nodded and dashed to the hole and performed its Flash attack, illuminating the night sky with its radiance. Ritchie checked his watch and grinned. "Perfect, and with fifteen seconds to spare. Watch the glass, guys. Our ride should be here in a few seconds."

Ritchie smiled as the loud sound of flapping wings filled the air outside the hole. "They're here. Let's go." Sparky leapt out of the opening, disappearing from view. Brock and Ash looked at the opening cautiously, eliciting a chuckle from Ritchie. "Don't worry about it. Just jump, you'll be fine."

"There they are! Open fire!" The group whirled around towards the door, only to find a large group of heavily armed LSF agents at the doorway, lead by a Beretta wielding Misty. Ritchie cursed and pulled the submachine gun off of his shoulder.

"Guys, jump!" he yelled as he pulled the trigger on the gun, sending a spray of bullets in the agent's direction. Both Ash and Brock took off towards the opening, carefully trying to avoid the glass that covered the floor. Almost hesitating, Ash hurled himself out of the window and surprisingly landed onto a soft surface, accompanied by a loud growl.

"Geez, Ashy not so hard, would you? Zippo isn't a rock, you know," a soft voice chimed from behind him. Ash turned around, and met the green eyes of a beautiful face. Long violet hair cascaded down past her shoulders, which were covered in a light training jacket.

"Duplica!" She giggled at his surprised expression.

"Long time no see, Ashy. I hope you haven't forgotten me." Ash shook his head. There was no way he could forget someone as attractive as she was; in fact, long ago, he had considered asking her out once. He examined his surroundings and found himself on the back of a massive red dragon, its huge red wings flapping the sky. It was Zippo; Ritchie's prized Charizard.

"What are you doing here?"

Duplica smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but quickly grabbed Ash and pulled him close to her. "What are you doing?"

Brock landed onto Zippo's back fiercely, drawing another roar from the large dragon. "Oh I'm sorry; I didn't realize you wanted all 260 pounds of Brock on top of you."

Brock shook his head and apologized to the large dragon. "Jesus Christ, it's insane up there. That redhead is crazy; she just started shooting all over the place and almost hit the oxygen tanks! The whole room could have gone p in flames at any time!"

"Where's Ritchie? Is he ok?"

"BOMB!" a voice cried from inside the room above them as Ritchie's body appeared from the opening and landed onto Zippo below.

"Zippo, go now!" Zippo roared and flapped its huge wings, quickly gaining distance from the hospital. They barely got twenty feet away when the room exploded, sending spinning fireballs and debris crashing to the streets below.

"Misty!" Ash yelled as he scrambled towards the edge of the dragon's body.

"What the hell are you talking about!" Brock exclaimed as he grabbed the back of Ash's neck and pulled back towards the center of Zippo's back.

"That redhead you were talking about; that was Misty!"

"Misty who! You mean the Misty we used to travel with!"

"Yes!" Brock eyes widened as he slumped onto the dragon. Ritchie laughed and lay back on Zippo's neck.

"You've got to freaking kidding me. Misty Waterflower is an LSF agent?" He laughed out loud again. "Oh well, nothing to worry about, she's fine."

"And how would you know that?"

"'Cause I threw the bomb under the bed. That contained a lot of the explosion. They probably just got hit with the shockwave. Nothing to be worried about. So word on the street is, that sword you guys lifted is fetching quite a pretty penny on the black market."

Brock's eyebrow was raised at his comment. "Just how much is it worth?"

Ritchie chuckled. "Oh, nothing big. Just about sixty million bucks."

"That thing is worth sixty million bucks?" Brock exclaimed. Ritchie nodded.

"Of course, when May first gave me a call, I was gonna bust you guys anyway. But when Duplica told me that thing was worth sixty mil, I decided that the least you guys could do was give me a cut of the profits. So, where is it?"

"At League Special Forces headquarters in Viridian City," Ash stated bluntly. "And I want it back. Those guys who were chasing us were after more than money. There's something special about that sword, and I want to know what it is."

Duplica scoffed. "So wait a second. You're suggesting breaking into what is quite possibly the most heavily fortified building in the world, which is inhabited by not just police officers, but heavily armed **LSF****agents**, and steal a sword out from under their noses?" she asked increduoulsy. Ash shook his head.

"Pretty much, yeah." Duplica turned to Ritchie and back to Ash and Brock with a wide smile plastered over her face.

"When do we start?"

"Anytime," Brock shivered as the cold wind rushed through his thin hospital gown. "But can we go get some clothes first?"

* * *

Dr. Leto sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So, Agent Summers, explain to me again what happened, because I am finding it very hard to believe that two people...**two goddamn people**, could get out of a trap orchestrated by over twenty personnel! And not only get out with their lives, but the sword in their possession!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the large conference table.

"Doctor, there's nothing to worry about-"

"Nothing to worry about!" he exclaimed loudly. "I have **four days** to present evidence of my research to the Board or my whole project is scrapped! And I will not let that happen, not even if I have to leave this god-forsaken center myself and find that sword!

"Look, you can yell at me all you want, but before I got here, you didn't even have a damn clue as to where that shield was, so don't take all your anger out on me!" Roxanne shouted back across the table, rising up from her seat. Their angry voices echoed off of the walls of the empty room as Roxanne sat back down in her chair.

"Where is the sword now?" he asked quietly as he slipped his glasses back on.

"It's in the headquarters of the LSF. Thankfully, this has played into our hands. Our associate in the LSF will direct access to it, and we will be sending a squad disguised as a clean-up crew there in a few days to pick it up."

"And that is all?" Roxanne nodded her head. "You'd better not screw this up this time, understand?" Roxanne growled and reluctantly nodded her head. The room soon grew quiet as the both of them fell silent.

"What exactly is Doctor Riley researching?" Roxanne inquired, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Genetics. He's been experimenting with the DNA of humans and Pokemon alike, trying to combine the two. He had been failing for the past two years, and the Board was about to cut off his research. Then something big happened." He leaned forward in his seat, narrowing his eyes.

"He had successfully combined the genetic code of fighting pokemon into our own beloved Director Steadman. Steadman experienced a five hundred percent increase in strength, agility and endurance. Now he is trying to bond the elemental abilities of pokemon with the human genome. Even though he had succeeded with the bonding of Steadman's genetic structure, we thought it was impossible to implant elemental control into a human being.

Then Agent Blue was born. Somehow, he had found the way to bond the elemental control of water into one of our Select Agents. Now Agent Blue could not only manipulate water in his surroundings, but he could generate water attacks from **within his own body**. Of course, he would have to consume massive amounts of water before or during this process, otherwise he would become significantly dehydrated. He then went on to create Agents Green, Red, and Yellow; each one containing the abilities of vegetation, fire and electricity respectively. Now he is not only searching for a way to incorporate the other remaining pokemon types into human beings, but he is trying to find a way to mass produce them, so we can completely fill our ranks with these soldiers." Doctor Leto smiled and folded his hands.

"My project however, could not only improve upon this idea, but will almost render it useless." Roxanne gave him a surprised expression as he chuckled and continued. "There are serious flaws in Riley's design. For the soldiers to exert control over their corresponding elements, they have to concentrate intensely. On the battlefield, where bullets are flying, there is no chance to do this. Not only is that, but the energy to generate their own element resource-consuming and hazardous to their health. Take Agent Yellow, for example. For him to generate his own electricity, he must rely on the electricity created from his own brain synapses. Extensive use of this could potentially cause brain damage and render the soldier useless in battle.

But imagine a person who can manipulate their element with little to no effort with training, and can endlessly generate their own energy? And not only the elements, either; consider a powerful psychic that could level and entire building with just a thought, or person that could control and direct the immense amount of insects that populate the world. They would be literal gods walking on this earth." Roxanne scoffed and laughed.

"You're joking, right, Doctor?"

"I once thought just like you, until I started seeing the evidence that something is brewing in the pokemon world. The appearance of Lugia and the other Legendary Birds in the Orange Islands, that massive crystal wall in Johto, a Deoxys in Hoenn, and too many other events to keep track of. Something is calling these pokemon that were once thought to be a myth out of hiding."

"Please. I'm surprised the Board has allowed you to go this far with this crackpot theory of yours." She rose and headed towards the door before being stopped by Dr. Leto.

"You **will** believe, Agent Summers. One way or another."


	5. The Heist

**Yes, I know it's been a while since I last updated, and I apologize. Some things came up, like Christmas and Tales of Symphonia. But hopefully you can forgive me as you go on to read this huge update I've given you guys. This chapter is pretty long; in fact, the longest chapter in my original draft was 19 pages long** **and that was lot farther into the story than we are right now. This chapter you're about to read is 17 pages. And it would have been longer if I hadn't stopped myself from saving some things for the next chapter. Also, a note to those of you who had read the original: this is the first chapter that actaully includes brand-new content, so I suggest you read it. Anyways, I'm babbling, so get to reading!**

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* * *

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Blade of Destiny

Chapter 5: The Heist

"Do all of you understand?" Roxanne questioned as she sat down at the head of the conference table. The Team Ultima agents that occupied the other seats nodded, bringing a smile to her face. "Good. You leave in two days. Do not bring any weapons with you; the League Special Forces building can detect any kind of weapon within a twenty foot radius of it. Do not take your time in retrieving this item. Get in, grab it, and get out." She nodded towards the hulking figure that stood in the back of the room, leaning against a nearby wall.

"As added insurance, Doctor Leto has ordered that Director Steadman accompany you. His presence should more than make up for the lack of weapons." The massive man stepped forward from the wall into the light that hung above the conference table, his very steps seeming to sink into the concrete floor. His body was a gargantuan mass of muscles, arms thick as tree trunks; his chest seemed like it was stretched to its limit and was about to burst. Atop a rugged, battle hardened face sat cropped brown hair, the strands ending in black highlights. A long scar adorned his right cheek, obviously a souvenir from battles past. He looked like he could take on a Machamp and defeat it without breaking a sweat.

"Explain to me again why I have to go." Roxanne rolled her eyes.

"Because the Doctor wants to make sure that this sword gets back to us." Steadman scoffed.

"Pfft. Why couldn't James or Jessie go? They're just as qualified as I am," he replied snidely.

"Because Jessie or James haven't been genetically altered and are able to punch through a concrete wall with minimal effort, that's why. Now if you have any objections, I suggest you shut your fucking mouth and get over them," Roxanne snapped back.

Steadman seemed taken aback for a second at Roxanne's outburst; he obviously wasn't used to his authority being challenged. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to? I am co-Director of this base and I will not be chastised in my own goddamn facility!" Steadman roared, his very voice almost causing the table to shake.

"And I work directly for the Board, which means that I have a higher authority than you. In other words, while I am present at this base, I am in charge, not you. If you don't like it, take it to the Board directly. You are all dismissed."

Steadman growled quietly as the other agents got up and quickly filed out of the conference room. "I said you were dismissed, Director Steadman," she said coldly, narrowing her eyes at the hulk of a man. Clenching his fist tightly, he turned and left the room, slamming the door with such force that the walls adjacent to them cracked. She rolled her eyes again.

"Idiot."

* * *

"So what's the plan?" Ritchie chimed in as he took another chip out the bag next to him and munched on it loudly. The group had quickly left the city of Cerulean and rendezvoused at the residence of Ritchie and Duplica. Now they were all spread out throughout the living room and the adjacent kitchen, with Pikachu and Sparky in a corner, playing cards. Max and May had already left Ash's house; it would not be long before the LSF would figure out where he lived and raided the place.

Max tapped a few keys on his computer and sighed. "Well, not much, but this is what I come up with in such short notice." He turned his computer screen around to the others and went on explaining. "I was only able to hack into the security cameras for fifteen minutes before the system realized I was an intruder and locked me out completely. Their security measures are insane; it took me two and half hours just to get that far."

"Come on Max, get on with it already," Ash said impatiently as Ritchie tossed him a soda from the fridge.

"Whatever. Anyway, I couldn't look into the records of the LSF and see where they had placed the sword, so I had to go with an educated guess." The screen on the computer lit up, revealing a video that was obviously recorded from a video camera. The camera tracked from side to side, showing a long hallway filled with four armed guards and a large steel door at the end of it.

"Now, while I'm only taking a wild stab in the dark here, I would say it's in that vault. This is obviously where the LSF stores all of its most valuable items at, so I think it's safe to say that the sword's in there. The only problem now is actually getting to it."

Duplica sat up from her seat on the couch and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. "So how big is this problem?" Max exhaled deeply and slumped into his chair.

"Humongous. You see, this whole area right here actually runs on a separate power grid; so if for some reason all of the power in the building goes out, this hallway will be still be completely protected by human personnel. Not only that, but the system can actually detect when there's a power outage in the rest of the building and locks down the entire hallway so no one can get in or out while the rest of the building is defenseless." He tapped a few buttons on the computer and revealed a large 3-D model of the building.

"Now, the only way we can hope of even getting in the hallway is if we place someone right next to the hallway at the moment that we shut the power to the hallway and the entire building at the same time. The power grid for the building is located in the lobby, inside a locked room that is guarded. Now I have found a way around it. Pikachu," he ordered while pointing a finger at the yellow rodent in the corner, "you're gonna have to crawl through the ventilation ducts into this room. At the same time, Sparky is going to be in the ducts as well, crawling down the basement where the other power grid is.

Now Sparky, the basement is going to have guards in it as well, so you're on your own in making it past them to get to the power grid. Not only that but you have a double job. The building has backup generators that restore the power in five minutes. You have to short out the power grid and find some way to stop those generators from coming back on, got it?" Sparky nodded and chirped in agreement. "May and Duplica, both the room Pikachu has to go into and the basement have security cameras that are monitored by two security guards in the lobby. You two will have to distract them, and keep their eyes off of those screens, understand?"

Duplica smirked. "Oh don't worry, it shouldn't be too hard to distract them."

Max nodded. "Good. Now Ash and Ritchie are gonna have to find some way into the building and to the tenth floor, where the hallway is. When the power goes out, get in there and find some way into that vault. Brock will be waiting with me in a close area where you will pass the sword on to him. After that, everyone get the hell out of the building before anyone can catch on to what just happened."

Ritchie smiled. "Cool, I have the perfect way to get us inside the building. So when are we going to do this?"

"Two days. It's a Saturday, so the number of security personnel should be lower than normal. Of course, this is just another educated guess." Max leaned back and rubbed his temples before turning to Ash. "Ash, do you really think this thing is worth all this trouble? I mean, I've still been searching for info on just what kind of sword this thing is, and I can't find a damn thing."

"Well," Ash said as he finished his soda and tossed it in a nearby trash can, "It's obviously important enough for somebody to try and kill us over, that's for sure. I want to see just what's so special about this thing first-hand. Besides, it is worth sixty million bucks. We can always sell it. When we split it, we'll each get ten million apiece. Now does that sound like it's worth it?"

Ritchie chuckled. "It sure as hell sounds worth it to me."

* * *

The sunlight streamed in through his open window and fell on his desk. The small room was littered with awards and medals depicting his exemplary service in law enforcement, a fact he was very proud of. The bright fell on an older man who sat his large leather chair, showing the face of a person who had been wizened by his experiences in life. His age and appearance betrayed his true strength and speed, and he could easily take a man half his age in a fight. He was Samuel Azusa, chief of the League Special Forces; and right now, he was very, **very** pissed off.

Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his slightly graying black hair and looked at three of his top agents: Misty Waterflower, Gary Oak and Kevin Jenkins. Misty and Gary had joined at about the same time and scored extremely high in combat situations and the written exam. They skyrocketed through the LSF swiftly and secured themselves a 98 success rate in their assignments. While they were pretty good by themselves, they were almost unstoppable as a team, and were two of the key reasons why Team Rocket and its affiliates were finally taken down five years earlier.

Jenkins was a relatively fresh recruit who had risen through the ranks very quickly, eventually securing himself a spot in the one of the highest ranks in the LSF, the Delta Agent, two ranks below Gary and Misty, who held the title Alpha agent; the LSF's second highest level of personnel. Ironically, it was their high skill level that only served to infuriate Chief Azusa even more.

"Now, I'm going to ask this one time, and one time only. I want a straight answer, none of this beating around the bush bullshit, understand?" The three agents who sat in front of him shook their head sheepishly. Instantly, he shot forward and slammed his fist onto the table, causing the random objects sitting atop it to jump and clatter loudly to the floor. "How in the hell do two men escape from our custody in a hospital that was filled with CPD and you three!" he bellowed, his voice seeming to make the walls themselves shudder.

"Not only that, but someone actually managed to get **inside** and break them out! You three are in the top tier of this agency; only Agents Sketchit and Fields are in the same league as you, and yet two men who were in a **goddamn car crash** managed to escape with their buddy who broke in!"

"Actually, those two had little to no injuries at all," Jenkins chimed in.

"Oh really!" Azusa exclaimed as he picked up the phone receiver. "Well, let me just dial up CNN and let them know about this breaking news! I ALREADY KNEW THAT SHIT, JENKINS!" he yelled as he hurled the phone at the wall behind them, breaking it on impact. "Unlike you three, I'm actually on top of what I need to know! Since you three obviously can't do this on your own, I've assigned Sketchit and Fields to your case. Get the hell out of my sight," he snapped angrily at them.

"Well, if it helps Chief, we do know who they are," Misty said quietly.

"Well, thank you Misty; now I can just waltz on down to their house and beg them to come into our custody! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND GO FIND THEM, NOW!" he hollered as the three left through the door. He glanced at his desk for a moment and walked over to the door, sticking his head out into the hallway.

"Sarah! Bring me a new phone!"

* * *

The two small Pikachus snored loudly on the couch as Ash passed them by on his way to the kitchen. He chuckled as he tossed a glance in the direction of the two mice; both of them had gotten him and Ritchie both of some tough jams at times when it seemed like there was no hope of getting away. Pulling open the refrigerator, he grabbed a carton of orange juice and sat it on the counter. "Now, where in the hell does Ritchie keep the glasses again?" he asked himself aloud as he searched through the cupboard for something to pour his drink in.

"They're in the cabinet on the far right," a soft voice said behind him, slightly startling him and causing to whirl around. Duplica stood there, clad in a silk purple nightgown, smiling at him brightly. "He moved them again. He never can keep anything in the same place for very long."

"Jesus, Duplica; you scared the hell out of me," he replied as he found the glasses and poured himself a drink. "What are you doing up this late anyway? It's almost three in the morning." She shrugged and sat next to a nearby table, flipping her hair out of her eyes.

"I never am able to sleep around this time. I usually just stay up and watch TV till I fall asleep, but now I can actually talk to somebody for once. It gets kinda boring in this huge house when I'm all by myself."

Ash swirled his drink around lightly and leaned up against the counter. "I've been meaning to ask you about that," he said before pausing and taking a sip from his juice, "when did you and Ritchie...?"

Duplica chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, it's not like that. I'm just staying here for a little while, that's all. I've got my eyes on somebody else right now." Ash raised his eyebrow and looked from his glass with a smirk.

"Oh really? Would it be anybody I know?" Duplica giggled and twirled her hair around her finger.

"Ah, I'll tell you later. But what about you, Mr. Super Thief? The man who escaped from the League Special Forces not once, but twice! And with barely a scratch on him!" she said with a chuckle.

"Yeah well, I'm just extremely lucky, that's all. I'm surprised I didn't escape with a bullet lodged in my ass," he joked, causing them both to laugh quietly before the room went silent.

"Let me ask you something, Ash," she said, finally breaking the silence.

"Shoot."

"Did you ever think that you would end up being a thief when you were a kid? Could you see yourself going down that road when you were younger?" Ash chuckled to himself quietly.

"Nope," he answered while shaking his head, "I never would have seen myself in this position. When I was a kid, I could see my destiny as the greatest pokemon master who ever lived!" he said with mock enthusiasm, shaking his fist in the air. "Me and Pikachu were unbeatable, and nobody was gonna stop us from accomplishing our goal!" He turned on the faucet and rinsed out his glass before setting it in the sink.

"It's funny how when you shoot for the stars as a kid, only to realize how high they actually are when you get older. But I guess that's the pleasure and torture of a dream; that it's only a fantasy, something you aspire to but never actually reach. I suppose this is my destiny, and all I can do is just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Duplica grinned at him as she rose from her chair. "Well, listen to you, Mr. Plato. I never would have taken you for the philosophizing type," she said, walking up to him and ruffling his black hair. "Good night kiddo," she said as she pecked him on the cheek and left out of the kitchen quietly.

Ash stood there for a moment, holding his cheek before he finally chuckled and reached for the light switch, only to be met with a slight sting of electricity. He jerked his hand back for a moment before cautiously placing it near the light switch again. "Damn static electricity," he said to himself as he clicked the light, leaving the kitchen in darkness.

* * *

"God, I'm bored."

Travis turned to his partner, who was slouching in his chair, staring at the TV screens in front of him with a tired look on his face. "What's your problem now?" His colleague rolled his eyes and smacked a random screen with his hand.

"That's the damn problem. Always staring at this damn screen, day in and day out. Never anything different, just the same monotonous crap over and over," he lamented loudly. The lobby around them carried his voice, making it echo a bit in the entrance of the huge League Special Forces building. "I don't even know why they've even hired us. Nobody would ever be stupid enough to try and do anything to this building. This is the freaking Special Forces!"

Travis crossed his arms and tossed a look at his partner. "Nate, come on, man. We go through this almost every week. You start whining about how boring it is around here, and then I tell you shut up and just be glad they're paying us to sit on our asses and do nothing. Then we argue, and we don't talk to each other for the rest of the day."

"But seriously, who would even **try** something in this building? This place is like a damn fortress; a war could break out in that street right there, and all we have to do is close the door and make a call and we would be completely safe. And even if by some kind of a miracle that they got in, this is the League Special Forces! They'd be mowed down within a matter of minutes!"

Travis shook his head and turned back to the large revolving doors that comprised the entrance to the building as a group of people approached the desk. "Yeah, can I help you guys?" he inquired when they were in earshot. All of them were dressed in white work outfits, but one guy drastically stood from the rest.

The guy was huge; he looked like he could break a guy in half as a warm-up. _This guy must have blessed his outfit to keep from ripping apart_, Travis thought to himself as one of the men handed over a work order. "Cleaning crew. We were called in for today," he explained as Nate flipped open a small notebook and ran his finger down the list.

"Yeah, we got 'em down right here. Damn, you guys came here exactly on time. It's nice to see that some workmanship isn't dead," Nate commented as he handed back the work order to them.

"We don't leave until the job is done completely. We make sure of that," the big guy commented as he snapped his fingers and pointed towards the doors. "Go get the supplies. I don't want to be here all day." Two of the other nodded and quickly turned to leave, drawing a whistle from Nate.

"Well, elevators back there. Don't forget to come and sign out when you're finished." The big guy nodded and headed towards the large steel doors that housed the elevators as the other two reappeared pushing a cart filled with cleaning supplies past the desk.

Travis tossed a glance at them one more as the doors closed and shook his head. "Jesus, that guy looks like a freaking monster," he commented.

"No kidding. I bet if you cut him, he'll bleed steroids." Travis chuckled loudly before sighing and turning his attention back to the monitors in front of him. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Nate was right, even thought he hated to admit it; this was boring. But like he had said, there weren't too many jobs that paid you to sit there and do practically nothing all day. But still, he wished he had brought a Game Boy, or at least a deck of cards with him to help pass the time.

After staring at the monitors and the random people passing in and out of the lobby, he finally turned to Nate and tapped his wrist. "What time is it, man?" Nate pulled back his shirt sleeve and glanced at his watch before sighing and turning back to him.

"It's eleven thirty." Travis groaned and slumped into his seat.

"God, it's still that early? I was getting my mouth ready for some lunch, too. What the hell?" he said as two more men approached clad in blue work outfits. "Uh, can we help you?"

"We're the cleaning crew." Travis raised an eyebrow. "Uh, we've already got a cleaning crew here. They came in about half an hour ago," he said, drawing a surprised look from the taller one with black hair. The two of them exchanged glances for a second before the brown-haired one turned back to them.

"Well, look at this place, buddy. Do you really think that one crew will be able to clean this gigantic building in a day? Or did you guys want a half-assed cleaned building, cause we can do that too, no problem." he quipped.

Nate flipped open the notebook and skimmed its contents. "I'm not seeing a second cleaning crew scheduled here today. Do you guys have a work order? That should clear everything up." The black haired one patted himself down, before slapping his companion in the shoulder.

"Where'd you put the work order?" The other one shrugged, and pointed at him.

"I thought you had it. Max told me he gave it to you. I thought everything was cool," he snapped back angrily. The black haired one felt through all of his pockets and threw his hands up in the air.

"He didn't give me any work order. He told me you had it. Is there any way you can let us up there without a work order? I need this job man; I'm not doing to well right now and I've got kids to feed, man. Cut us some slack here." Travis shook his head.

"Sorry buddy, we can't let you up there without a previous appointment or proof of your business being here. LSF protocol," he explained shrugging slightly.

"You guys can go on through," Nate said suddenly, causing Travis to jerk his head in his colleague's direction.

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you trying to get us fired or something!" Travis hissed.

"What were just talking about? What can these guys do? This is the League Special Forces headquarters; you'd have to be stupid, insane, or both to try something in this place. I say we let them through." Travis thought for a moment before cursing under his breath and turning back to the other two.

"Fine, go on through. But the next time you guys come here, bring a damn work order. I won't be losing my job over you guys," he said, drawing a smile from the other two. "Elevator's behind us."

The two nodded and left for a moment, only to return with another cart filled with cleaning supplies. The two nodded and smiled as they passed the desk and headed back towards the elevators behind them. Travis grunted and turned back around. "This better not come back to bite me in the ass, Nate, or I will blame everything on you."

Nate rolled his eyes. "How's that different from any other time?"

* * *

Its nose crinkled as it paused for a moment, trying to stave on an incoming sneeze. The dust hung in the air of the ventilation shafts like a fog; and it didn't help that Sparky was allergic to it. "Pika!" its companion said impatiently behind it, causing Sparky to toss an annoyed glance at it.

"Ka chu, pika chupi!" it hissed back at the small yellow mouse behind it. If there was a problem Pikachu had, it was the fact that it was way always way impatient, just like its owner, Ash. Pikachu grumbled under its breath quietly as the two of them made their way through the maze of air shafts in the huge building. The dust was unbearable; Sparky's eyes were tearing up and turning red, and every few seconds he had to fight off yet another sneeze.

Sparky scratched its ear, trying to get rid of the annoying earpiece that was lodged in its ear canal by Max. "Chuka!" it called out to its partner behind it, "Kapi pi, chupi ka?" Pikachu shrugged, drawing a sigh from Sparky. A four way intersection sat in front of him, and he had no clue which way to go.

"How's it going in there, Sparky?" Max chimed in its ear, startling it. "Did you come to the intersection yet?"

"Pika!"

"Uhh, I'm gonna take that as a yes. Ok, once you get there, you guys are gonna have to split up. Sparky, you're gonna go to the left and Pikachu's going straight. Pikachu, all you have to do is go straight and there will be a vent that leads into the room. There aren't any guards in there since it's monitored by the security cameras. Now, this whole operation is hinging on perfect timing, and that all starts with you. Once you're in position to shut down the power grid, contact me. You give the signal, and the job's underway," Max explained through the earpiece.

"Pikachu!" it replied as it passed up Sparky and waved a paw before scurrying down the shaft.

"Now, Sparky, your job is a little bit tougher. Once you head left, you'll come to another intersection. Head right; there will be a slight drop, so you're gonna have to jump down. Once you're down, head straight and make another left. There will be a vent that leads into the basement. Now unlike Pikachu, the basement does have guards **and** security cameras in it, so you'll have to be doubly careful.

Avoid the guards and find the grid that powers the hallway. You need to short it out with a Thundershock or some kind of attack that will overload the grid. Now, the building has backup generators in the basement that restore power to the building in case of a power outage. We need you to find some way to stop those generators from turning on, understand?"

"Pika," Sparky replied as it turned left and began its trek to the basement.

"Alright, then; good luck, and don't get caught," Max quipped before clicking off of the receiver.

Sparky sighed to itself quietly and made its way through the shafts, waving its paw to blow some of the rampant dust out of his eyes. It loved this part of the job; the rush of hastening to its target, ducking behind walls and hiding in spaces to avoid being spotted. It provided a rush similar to the one it used to experience during battles when it was younger. Probably the only thing that he hated about being a thief was the waiting between each job. It hated sitting around and not doing anything. That was why even though it loved its life as a thief, it still yearned for the old days when Ritchie and it used to travel around the world, looking for that next big battle.

It loved it when he found an opponent that was a challenge; dodging their attacks, then countering with his own. It was like a drug to it; rush, move, attack, dive, roll, shock. Nothing in the world, save for stealing, could even match the feeling of euphoria that it experienced in a battle. Sparky stopped for a moment and peered down the "slight" drop that Max had mentioned. It was at least 7 feet deep, and it certainly wouldn't just jump down; the noise could alert someone below or even worse, it could fall through.

Suddenly, a small grin appeared on Sparky's yellow face as an idea popped into its head. Sparky looked down the drop one more time and jumped, sliding its body down one side of the shaft. After it had fallen a short distance, it quickly jumped to the opposite side of the vent and slid down. Sparky repeated the action of sliding down for a few seconds, leaping to the opposite side, and hopping down between the shaft walls.

Finally, it reached the bottom of the shaft and landed quietly, bringing a smile to the mouse's face as it began walking straight towards its destination. It wished that Ritchie and it would take a trip one day and just travel the world like they used to. Neither of them traveled much anymore; it would just be a short trip to the job, then the process of getting the hell out of there before they were caught.

"Pi?" it said quietly to itself as it thin slits of light penetrated the floor beneath it into its small eyes. It was standing right on top of the vent; if the light hadn't shone into its eyes, it probably would have passed it up completely. Sparky leaned down and peeked through the vent, surveying the basement below him.

It was a dark large room, with rows and rows of pipes strung out all over the place, separating the room into smaller hallway-like passageways. Tons of machinery and such was placed all over the area, creating a constant humming of electricity and turbines spinning loudly. The dim light that was present was provided by small lamp-like light fixtures that hung in scattered spots across the ceiling. It couldn't see the power grid or the generators from the vent; Sparky would have to jump down and search for it manually. The faint human voices of the guards drifted through the air, barely audible over the endless noise of the machines that undoubtedly powered the building.

Slowly, Sparky placed a paw over the vent and quietly slid it back, opening a way into the basement below. It poked its head out for a moment, and quickly tried to find a way that would get him back into the vents after his job was done. About three feet to the left was a row of pipes that rose towards the ceiling; it was the closest and best way to get back into the shaft, but it would require quite a long jump. It was also at an angle, so it would have to find a way to leap and grab the edge of the vent before climbing back up. Quickly, it took one last sweep from its vantage point and leapt down to the cold concrete below without a sound.

A loud whirring above Sparky caused it to glance upwards, spotting a mechanized security camera quickly closing in on its position. In a flash, Sparky dove behind a row of pipes, obscuring itself from the camera's field of vision. Letting out a whoosh of air, it scolded itself for being so careless; he would have to tread lightly, there was no telling how many more cameras were down there. Sparky began creeping through the basement, using the shadows and spaces between the pipes to hide from the automated gaze of the cameras and the occasional guard that would pass.

It poked its head around another corner and smiled. Behind a chain link fence sat a console covered with blinking lights and numerous switches, accompanied by three large steel covered objects sitting right next to it. Sparky grinned and hid itself behind a pipe. Now all it would have to do was wait.

* * *

"So you watch sports?" Travis asked as he leaned forward.

"Oh, I love sports! The Electabuzz are my favorite team!" her soft voice giggled as she leaned over the counter. Travis chuckled to himself; it was days like these that made his job worth it. Two beautiful women had walked in and questioned them about the directions to somewhere. Nate had already gone off to lunch, leaving Travis alone at the desk. Naturally, Travis turned up the charm and now the purple-haired one was all over him. Her companion had asked for the bathroom, which he hastily pointed to. It was rare that a cute one happened across the LSF headquarters; the redhead that he had hit on ended badly, with her ending up hitting on him...repeatedly with her fist. And that was before her boyfriend showed up...but that was all in the past now.

Right now, he had a promising prospect in front of him, dangling on the hook. All he had to do was reel her in. "Yeah, I like the Electabuzz too. They're not having too good a season right now. But they did get that manager; the first female in the league, I think. I think her name was Cass or Casey or something like that. She's pretty aggressive; they'll probably recruit some good players during the offseason."

"Yeah, I heard about her," she replied as her long violet hair fell over one of the screens in front of him. He didn't mind though, he had a much better view right where he was. "So, do you play any sports, cutie?" she asked, flicking a hair out of her eyes.

He chuckled and ran hand through his short, spiked hair. "Well, I used to play basketball in college. I never went pro, though." He glanced around his surroundings and flicked his nametag. "Should have at least tried, though," he added with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Aww," she cooed, "Don't give up. You should keep working out; you might be picked up by a team one day. Not to mention it'll keep those big muscles in tone," she added playfully. Travis grinned and folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. Suddenly, the woman tilted her head for a moment as if listening to something, but quickly smiled at him again.

"Come on, Cassandra, let's get out of here. We don't want to be late," a voice said from behind him, causing him to turn around. It was the brunette that had come in with her earlier. Cassandra sighed and pouted slightly, before nodding.

"Ok, I'll meet you out front," she said as her friend passed her up and left through the doors out into the street. "Well cutie, I gotta go. But here," she said as she scribbled something onto a piece of paper and leaned over, sticking it in his shirt pocket. "Don't read it until I leave, ok?" Travis nodded as she pecked him on the cheek and turned to leave before waving at him.

Travis waved back dumbly as she turned and left the lobby through the doors to the streets outside. Suddenly, he remembered the paper she had slipped into his pocket. Quickly, he fumbled through his pockets before finally pulling out the slip of paper and unfolding it. "Lights out," Travis read aloud, puzzled by the words on the paper. "What the hell?"

As soon as he spoke, the lights flickered at first, and then suddenly died out as the power was seemingly cut off from the building. Agents and personnel in the lobby quickly scrambled around, trying to find the source of the power outage. All Travis could do was stare out at the street beyond and shake his head.

* * *

Ash cringed as his squeegee produced a loud squeal from the window. "Jesus, it's taking forever. When did Max say they were going to start?" Ash asked in a hushed tone to his partner. Ritchie shrugged and placed a random bottle in the cart they had been pushing for the past ten minutes, pretending to clean the windows on the seventh floor.

"Don't look at me, man. Max said it all hinged on Pikachu and the girls. We move when they move. It looks like this job is going to be a little easier than we expected, though," Ritchie commented, tossing Ash another bottle.

"What makes you say that?" Ritchie looked around to see if anyone was in earshot and leaned forward over the cart. "Don't you think it's kind of weird that this door hasn't got any guards posted in front of it? I mean, this is supposed to be one of most closely guarded areas of the entire building."

"Because," Ash explained as he pointed to the wall behind Ritchie, "that place is supposed to be a secret. It wouldn't exactly look normal if you had armed guards posted in front of a plain-looking wall."

"Oh, but cleaning the exact same window for the past ten minutes looks completely normal," Ritchie added with a grin.

"Shut up." Ash opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off, by the slowing whir of the air-conditioning fan above them. Ritchie smirked and glanced around, seeing if anyone was nearby. "Wait until the power goes out completely."

Slowly, the lights above them flickered, and one by one, they blinked out, dimming the hallway. Ash reached into a pocket of his work outfit and tossed a small red object to Ritchie.

"Hurry up!" Ash said hurriedly, taking a sweep around them to try and scout for incoming agents. Ritchie promptly caught it and rushed over to the nearby wall, running his hand across the smooth surface, obviously searching for something. His eyes lit up as his palm slid over a small rise in the wall.

"Ash, I found it!" he said as a small panel of the wall slid open, revealing a small keypad and a green square. Yanking a small wire out of the in his hand, he found a small USB port in the panel and inserted the device into it. "Can Dexter bypass a palm scanner too?" Ritchie asked as he punched a couple of buttons on the miniscule computer.

Ash nodded his head. "Max said that Dexter could break through almost any kind of security device; and if it can't, he can establish a link through it and do it manually. But we don't have the time to do that; if it can't hack through the security systems here, we're gonna have to kill the plan."

"Come on, come on!" Ritchie said impatiently as the computer hummed and worked on the panel. The lights on the panel lit up, and a loud click resonated from the wall, bringing a smile to his face. "Yes!" The wall next to him shuddered slightly as it slid to the side. Quickly, Ash pushed the cart across the hallway into the opening, as Ritchie removed the cord from the port, letting it snap back into Dexter and disappeared into the wall also. Without a sound, the wall slid back to its original position, obscuring any evidence of their presence there.

"Let's hope Sparky took out those generators, or this is gonna be a real short heist," Ash said hopefully. "Damn, I can't even my own hand in front of me. Hang on." The sound of Ash rustling through his work outfit was present in the pitch-black hallway as he searched for something. "Ah, here it is," he said finally, clicking a small flashlight on, illuminating the darkness around them.

"Don't worry; he'll get it done. But what the hell did you bring the cart for?"

"Oh, I'm positive that the League Special Forces won't notice us waltzing out of the front doors of their headquarters carrying a large sword that was stolen from a museum a week ago," Ash said sarcastically as he pulled the cart to a stop. The hallway suddenly turned to the left, prompting Ash and Ritchie to take a glance at each other.

"Ok, I'm sure that those armed guards are down there. You got any ideas on how to get rid of them?"

"Give me the light," he said as he grabbed the flashlight and shined the beam into the cart. Ritchie smiled as he reached into the cart and pulled several long white rods, resembling the glow sticks ravers would use.

"What the hell are those?"

"Liquid flashbangs. Just snap it, shake it up, and you've got five seconds till they go off. It was probably the only thing I could think of that could get past the security screening here. Let's just take a gander to see how many of these we need," he said, pressing his body against the wall and peeking his head past, holding the light above his head.

"Huh."

Ash raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"There aren't any armed guards. In fact, there's nothing down there but an empty hallway and an open door," he replied with a puzzled tone. "But there is some kind of weird light down there. Come on." Before Ash could stop, Ritchie had already taken off down the hallway. Ash sighed and quickly began to follow him, the both of them slowing down as they neared the door.

Faint voices drifted from past the door. "Kill the light, Rich," Ash advised, and quickly the light went out, leaving them in darkness again. "Shh, I think someone's in there." Both of them inched closer to the open door, the voices inside growing louder and louder.

"What the hell happened? He never said he was cutting the power!"

"Just shut up and keep that torch on the door. I want to grab this thing and get the hell out of here," a rough voice snapped in reply to the first person. "He probably cut the power to kill the cameras in here. Did you honestly think those two guards were all they had protecting this damn sword?"

Ash's eyes widened at the mention of the sword; obviously somebody else was here to procure what he and Ritchie had come to get also. "Ritchie, give me the flashlight," he said quietly, hoping not to alert the others in the room ahead.

"What? What for?"

"Just give me the damn flashlight!" he hissed. He could hear Ritchie sigh in the darkness for a moment, and felt the jab of the light in his arm. "Follow my lead," he instructed as he inched closer towards the door and stood in its entrance.

In a flash, he clicked the light on and shone it into the room, revealing its occupants. Four men were huddled around a huge steel door in the middle of the room, one carrying a blowtorch, obviously trying to cut through. "Who the hell are you guys!" he demanded loudly, causing all of them to whirl around in surprise.

"Who the hell are we?" one of the men, a giant in size said in a gruff tone, matching the one Ash had heard moments earlier. He was obviously the leader, the way the others were positioned around him. "Who the hell are you?" All of a sudden, Ritchie stepped forward and yanked the flashlight out of Ash's hand.

"To hell with all this twenty questions bullshit," he stated flatly as he rushed the men, tossing the flashlight into the face one of the men standing near the steel vault. The man cried out in pain and grabbed his face as the light skidded across the floor, sending a narrow beam on the floor, barely illuminating the small room.

Within moments, the entire room had broken into a battle royale as all of them men began swinging blindly in the dark, hardly able to even seen their own fists in front of them. Ash struggled around, only to be met in the face with a crushing blow to the jaw that sent him reeling for a few moments.

Even though the dark had robbed him of his sight, his body quickly adapted and the sounds of the room were loud and clear as he heard a slight whoosh of air near his head. Instinctively, he threw his hands out to block and grabbed onto a leg that was meant to meet his face. He yanked backwards with a grunt, feeling a weight move followed by a surprised cry from his attacker followed by a thud as he slammed into the hard ground below. Swiftly, he leapt on top of the man and began slinging his fists into hiss opponent's face before a body smashed into his side, throwing him off of his previous target and landing a new one on top of him.

Blindly, he wrestled with the adversary as the sound of Ritchie's voice echoed throughout the room. "Ash!" he yelled loudly before grunting, "Cover your eyes!" He growled and threw a vicious strike to the man's chin above him, and hurled the body off of himself, hearing a loud thump and a cry of pain as it slammed into a nearby wall. A loud snap was audible through the room, prompting Ash to cover his eyes and ears instantly.

The room was quiet for a moment before exploding into an eruption of light that filled the room, accompanied by an eardrum-splitting crack. Everyone in the room yelled in surprise from the sense assaulting blast that had occurred a few moments earlier. Another snap was heard and Ash braced himself for another explosion, only to hear none. A soft green glow began to fill the room, revealing the condition of the room's occupants.

Ritchie was slowly pulling himself up from the floor, his face covered in bruises along with both of his lips busted open. Blood oozed out from the open cuts on his face, slowly making its way down his chin. His sleeve was ripped halfway off, dangling off his right arm. He glanced to his right; obviously the man he had just thrown had struck his head on the adjacent wall and was lying unconscious. On his right was the man he had tripped to the floor. He too, was unconscious, his face looking as if had run through a meat grinder; a result of Ash's handiwork.

Ash felt his own face and winced slightly as his hand ran roughly across a small bruise on his left cheek. His jaw was slightly sore, but other than that, he was surprisingly unhurt. A loud groan emitted near the steel door that sat in the center of the room, causing him to turn his head to see the source.

The gigantic leader of the other men was staggering at the door, reeling from the flashbang that Ritchie had thrown. "Urggh...you son of a bitch..." he grumbled, shaking his head as he tried to clear its effects. _I gotta take him out now while he's still groggy,_ Ash thought to himself as he picked himself up from the ground.

Quickly, he rushed the leader, yelling loudly as he jumped into the air, launching a flying scissor kick aimed at his temple. Instantly, the man snapped his head in Ash's direction and glared furiously at him. Ash seemed to hang in the air as the leader instantly snatched a hold of Ash's neck.

Ash's eyes opened wide in surprise as the man stared into his eyes, sending a look of hate that almost froze him in his spot. His breathing was heavily labored as the gargantuan hand squeezed his neck, cutting off his air supply and crushing his windpipe. "You're going to pay for what you just did, you son of a bitch," he growled angrily, narrowing his eyes as he clutched Ash's helpless figure in the air like a doll.

With blinding speed, he rushed forward and crashed Ash's body into the wall behind him. The entire room shuddered as the wall collapsed from the force of the impact, cracking the walls adjacent to the point of collision. Stray pieces of drywall and plaster rained down on top of Ash's head as he dangled in the air. Ash's entire frame exploded into pain, sending every nerve in his body into overdrive. Ash opened his mouth to cry out in pain, but the agony forced it to die in his throat.

"Put him down, you son of a bitch!" Ritchie exclaimed frantically as he rushed the leader from behind. The man didn't even glance behind as he merely swatted Ritchie in his chest, sending him flying across the room and careening into a wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Heh, looks like you hit a stud in the wall there, buddy," he said, leaning closer to Ash's face. A spark of realization flickered in his eyes as a grin spread across his face. "Well, what do you know? You're the guy we've been looking for quite some time. Seems you have a knack for getting out of impossible situations, much to our annoyance." All Ash could do was groan in reply, the pain in his body almost paralyzing him. "Well, Ash," he said with a chuckle, "Let's see you get out of this one."

Out of the blue, Ash's chest erupted into agony as the man sent a fist flying into his ribs. "GYAAAAH!" Ash screamed in anguish, his chest now feeling as if somebody had covered it with gasoline and ignited it, setting his whole midsection aflame. If his body hadn't let him scream before, it forced him to do it nonstop now as his cries echoed loudly off of the walls. The man chuckled and dropped his now limp body to the floor, landing crumpled on the ground below.

"Hang on a sec, I'll be right back. I got some business to take care of," he said smugly, walking over to the steel door before stopping at the bodies of one of his fallen comrades. "Tsk, tsk, tsk; I can't leave you guys here to tell on me, now can I?" Ash strained to raise his head, barely able to keep it up. His chest still felt like it was on fire; at least two of his ribs were broken already. Every time he sucked in another gulp of air, his midsection felt as if someone had run him through with a sword. Still, he labored to keep his eyes on the man as he picked up one of the men on the ground and placed a thumb on his neck, obviously feeling for a pulse.

"Oh, you're still alive?" he said incredulously. With a flick of his wrist, a sickening crack resonated through the room. The body suddenly went limp in his hands and the man tossed the body to the floor. "I'll get to the rest of you guys in a sec." Slowly, he strolled over to the large steel door of the vault and held his ear against it, knocking against it lightly with his fist.

Stepping back, he curled both of his hands together in a big fist and brought his arm back, swinging it into the metal frame of the vault's doors. A loud clang reverberated throughout the room as it met the door, sinking the metal into itself as if were putty. He swung again, releasing another clang and bending the door even more. With a loud cry, he swung one last time, the walls around them shaking from the sheer force of the impact.

The door wobbled for a moment, and fell backwards into the vault, smashing into the floor, shaking the room with the collision. "There we go," the man commented as he stepped into the vault. He disappeared for a moment behind the wall, before re-emerging again with the crystalline weapon clutched in his hands. Ash's vision began to blur and darken, showing only a formless blob in his eyes walking towards him. "Now for you guys," he said, his voice becoming slightly warped in his ears.

It seemed as if he was going into shock; his body was growing cold and his vision blurred even more, making it impossible to make out anything from the swirl of colors he now called his eyesight.

Suddenly, the weapon began to pulsate and glow in the man's hands, filling the room with a low hum that increasingly grew louder. It began to vibrate violently, almost to the point where he could barely hang on to it. "What the fu-," he said before feeling a tugging on his leg. He glanced down, his eyes falling on a battered Ritchie, carrying a small silver disk in his hands.

"Happy landings, you son of a bitch," he growled angrily as he slapped it onto the ground between his legs, causing it to beep loudly, blending with the ever growing hum of the sword. Swiftly, Ritchie grabbed Ash's body and tugged it towards him, the beeping and humming growing louder and faster.

"What the-," he yelled as he was cut of by a blinding flash and a loud beep that filled the room. An explosion rocked the room to its very core as the floor beneath them shuddered and gave way, sending them flying to the level below. The leader careened into the ground below before the utter power of the impact caused it to quake and yield to the bodies that were plummeting downwards. Level after level, they fell, the leader smashing into the ground first and creating a new path to the floor below, allowing Ash and Ritchie to follow. Debris was flung into the air; drywall, plaster and wood various other objects rained through the air as the group went through floor after floor.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they struck solid ground, and the debris fell on top of them, burying them completely in the rubble. Ritchie struggled to stay conscious, barely able to see through the wreckage. With a loud thunk, the sword fell mere inches from his face, embedded in the floor below. With a groan, he strained to move his arm and ran his arm over the hilt of the weapon before his body finally gave out and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

"Keep digging!"

Nate and Travis stood dumbstruck, at the pile of rubble that lay before them. Only twenty minutes earlier, a huge explosion had struck the building, followed by a roar so loud, he could have sworn a horde of Arcanines were bearing their way down the building. Someone, somehow, had used the power outage as a cover and broken their way into a top secret vault on the seventh floor. Then some kind of explosive had gone off, the entire steel vault hurtling downwards seven floors, before it finally came to a halt on the ground floor, near some kind of emergency exit in the back of the building.

Now a mass of LSF agents were clawing through the rubble, searching for the bodies of the perpetrators, along with the items that were placed in the vault. "Well? Where are the damn bodies?" Chief Azusa roared at the men who were digging through the remains.

"We can't find any, Chief!" a young agent replied from the ruins.

"Uh, Chief! You might wanna take a look at this!" a voice from behind the rubble called out. Quickly, the mass of agents scampered to the source of the voice; a young woman staring into the vault that lay sideways on the ground.

"What is it, McBride?" the Chief questioned, not wanting to hear anymore bad news.

"Well, everything's in here," she said, bringing a sigh of relief from the Chief. "Well, everything except that sword."

"What?" the Chief exclaimed loudly, before cursing out loud.

"But I don't think that's what we should be worried about," she said quietly.

"Oh really! So what should we be worried about then?" he demanded. Agent McBride hesitated for a moment then pointed towards a large steel slab on the ground, sitting lopsided on the ground. The Chief and the other agents huddled around the door, before gasping in disbelief.

Someone had punched had punched their way through a two and a half foot thick steel door.

"Travis?" Nate said sheepishly.

"Yeah, Nate?" Nate turned his towards Travis, his eyes wide open with incredulity.

"If I ever say this job is boring again, punch me." Travis nodded and turned back to the door lying on the ground before them.

"Sure thing."


	6. Taking Back What's Mine

Blade of Destiny

Chapter 6: Taking Back What's Mine

Misty took a deep breath as she pressed herself against the wall, next to the door. With a silent gesture, she signaled for her comrade to come forward across the bushes and stand in front of the door. "You ready, Gary?" Gary nodded and pulled his pistol out of the back of his jeans, nodding solemnly.

"Yeah. I just hope I don't have to use this thing," he said as Misty retrieved her own weapon.

"Me neither. Where are Tracey and Harrison?" He nodded his head towards the rear of the house.

"They're gonna be coming from around the back, to make sure they don't escape that way." Gary himself took a deep breath and raised his gun next to his head, preparing to enter the house. "All right, let's do this." With a grunt, he viciously kicked the door open, swinging it wildly into the residence.

Instantly, Gary rushed inside with Misty right behind him, their weapons drawn and ready to fire. The house was small, as the entrance they had created for themselves gave them a perfect view of the living room, along with the kitchen in the back of it. "Living room and kitchen are clear. Misty, go check the rooms in the back. I'll go scope out the garage," Gary ordered. With a nod, Misty turned and headed down a hallway near the television set, cautiously keeping her weapon ready.

Slowly, she peeked around the corner, making sure it was all clear before she rounded it. As she turned to go down the next hallway, she froze as she heard a sound behind her. Instantly, she whirled around, cocking back the hammer, aiming the figure behind her.

"Whoa, whoa! Misty, calm down, it's me!" the man exclaimed, raising his hands in surrender. Misty sighed deeply and smacked him on his shoulder, prompting a laugh from him.

"Damn it, Tracey! Don't sneak up on me like that; I was about to shoot you!" she shouted as Tracey brought his hand down. "Do that again, and I will pull the trigger, punk." Slowly, she brought her handgun down and placed it back in its holster on her hip. "Well, did you at least find anything?"

Tracey shook his head, scratching his head through the red bandanna that covered it. He had been wearing that thing since she had first met him; it seemed he never went anywhere without it. He even wore it when he was called into duty by the LSF, much to Chief Azusa's chagrin. The Chief had tried to make him get rid of it, but in the end he decided to let it go, since he was the highest ranking agent in the organization, save for the Chief himself. He and Harrison were the only two people ranked as Omega Agents in the LSF; the highest rank it had to offer.

"Nah, we haven't found anything yet," he replied, still scratching his head, causing a stray black hair to fall from the bandanna's trappings. "Harrison's looking in some room in the back now."

"And you?" Misty questioned. Tracey grinned and pointed behind her.

"I was heading to the kitchen, see if they had anything good to eat." Misty let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Even though he was the highest ranking agent in the LSF, he certainly didn't act like it. Tracey had had a bit of a reputation as a slacker in the Forces, and it didn't help that he hardly ever seemed to do any real work of any kind around the organization. Many of the younger, fresh recruits still didn't understand how he had attained such a high rank.

"Tell me if you find something interesting, Mist!" he yelled behind himself as he passed her up and headed towards the kitchen. Misty rolled her eyes again and turned the corner, pushing open the door that was in front of her. Misty chuckled to herself; the room looked as if a hurricane had swept through. Clothes lay everywhere, shoes were on dressers, various sheets of paper and other random objects were sprawled out all over the floor. Even in eight years, he hadn't changed a bit.

Stepping through the cluttered room brought back memories; memories that she thought were long buried were beginning to resurface in her mind. Yelling at him constantly about his junky habits, arguing with him constantly over the dumbest things just to be able to make up with him again...she hated thinking about the way things were back then. All it served to do was depress her; it had taken her a lot of time to get over the fact that he had left her. Opening all of these old wounds was one thing she didn't need.

Misty closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. _You are not here to dwell on the past. Ash is no longer the same man he was when you last saw him. He's a criminal, and one that needs to be brought to justice. Let it go,_ she scolded herself internally as she opened her eyes and swept them across the room. _Just search the room for any evidence and get the hell out of here. _

Finally, Misty pulled herself together and began her search of the room. Slowly, she waded through the piles of clothes and items, opening dresser drawers, looking for anything that would give them a lead. Absently, she shoved her hand into a drawer, feeling her fingers brush against something cold and metallic.

Raising an eyebrow, she pulled the out the items of clothing and finally got a glance at what she had found. Lying in the dresser was a large black handgun, hidden under a pile of clothes. Slowly, she grabbed it and pulled it out, examining the model. Instinctively, she brushed her finger against the magazine release and pulled out the clip. The gun was fully loaded, as she thought. Swiftly, she slammed the magazine back into the weapon and cocked back the slide, hearing the bullet load into the chamber with a loud click.

With a sigh, she placed the gun on top of the dresser and continued her inspection of his belongings. Randomly, she yanked drawers out and emptied them on the floor, seeing if she could find anything else. Quickly, she pulled out another drawer and dumped its contents on the carpet below, preparing to reach out for another drawer as she took a second glance and stopped.

Reaching into the pile she had just emptied, she pulled out a lace bra; feeling her heart sink as she brought it up to the light. It was obvious to her now; he had long forgotten about her and moved on with his life. She didn't even know why she was feeling some kind of loneliness, some sense of rejection. Why was she hurting like this? She shouldn't; she had gotten over him and the fact that he had left her and moved on just like he had. Or at least she thought he had.

"Goddamn you, Ash," she whispered to herself as she threw the clothing to the ground. She wanted to hate him; she wanted to just despise his very being. But in the midst of her desire to hate him so, she knew deep down that she couldn't. She knew she had every right to; he had abandoned her without even so much as a goodbye, reduced her to a shell of her former self, wracked with depression and confusion.

If it wasn't for Gary and the lucky string of events that placed her in the League Special Forces, she had no clue where'd she be right now.

"Misty?"

The voice snapped her out of her trance, bringing her back to the world as she turned to the door. Gary stood there with a concerned look on his face. Quickly, she tried to erase any trace of the thought process that going through her mind from her face, stretching her lips into a smile.

"Did you find anything?" Misty nodded and tossed him the pistol she had found in his drawer.

"Found that in his dresser. It's loaded, so be careful," she warned as he turned the weapon over, examining it. With a click, he removed the clip before cocking back the slide, catching the bullet that popped out in one smooth motion.

"Anything else?" Misty shook her head.

"Nothing big. Just some clothes of his and his girlfriend's," she said, almost choking at the last part of her statement. Gary raised his eyebrow in surprise.

"Girlfriend?" Misty nodded and picked up a pair of lace panties.

"Can't get much more obvious than that, unless he spawned a cross-dressing habit over the past few years," she flatly stated, tossing the lingerie back to the ground. "Did you guys find anything?" Gary shook his head and leaned his head against the doorframe.

"Nope, not a thing. They cleaned out everything that would have been of any use to us. Looks like we're back to a dead end again," he sighed. Both of them fell silent for a moment before Gary turned his head back to Misty. "Are you okay, Misty?" Misty faked a chuckle and stood up.

"Of course, I'm perfectly fine," she lied. Gary raised his eyebrow again.

"You're a horrible liar, you know," he said bluntly. Misty opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted as Harrison burst through the room.

"Guys, let's go. We gotta get back to HQ as soon as possible," he said quickly as he shoved a cell phone into his pocket.

"Why? What's the rush?" Gary questioned, straightening up from the doorframe. Harrison shook his head.

"Somebody broke into HQ and stole the sword," he answered, causing both Gary and Misty's eyes to open wide in surprise.

"What!" she exclaimed. "How did they break into LSF headquarters? That's impossible!"

"Not to mention the fact that the sword is in that Level 4 Security Vault," Gary added. Harrison turned to walk out from the room before turning around to face the two of them.

"Well, according to Jenkins, they broke in alright. They blew the vault right out of the damn floor and sent it flying down seven stories. Nobody there knows who did it, but I got a good idea."

"What? You don't think Ash did it?" Misty said incredulously.

"Well, the guy has survived a car crash where his car has flipped over on one of the busiest freeways in Kanto, and escaped from a hospital that had you two and the Cerulean Police Department in it," he pointed out, drawing a scowl from both Gary and Misty. "Right now, I wouldn't put anything over him. Let's go."

* * *

Ash's eyes snapped open fiercely as he awoke with a jolt. _Where the hell am I?_ With a groan, he pulled his body up from the cold stone ground that was beneath him. He blinked, trying to force away the blurriness in his eyes. Slowly, the world around him began to come into focus and he gasped as he took a closer look at his surroundings. A gigantic stone temple stood in front of him, dwarfing the size of even that of Indigo Plateau's Pokemon Stadium. Various pillars that held up the granite rooftops were either cracked or completely obliterated, sending rubble to the ground below, crushing the stairs that led into the building.

Just about five feet in front of lay an overturned statue of a large bird, its head completely crumbled into almost a fine dust as its wings lay broken all around it. The entire city around him was in complete ruin; **something** had come through here and had laid everything in the metropolis to waste. He tried to take a step forward and almost collapsed to the ground as a sharp pain raced through his left leg, almost paralyzing him. He glanced down and observed his body, only to find that he was no longer dressed in the work outfit he was in when he had left for the LSF headquarters in the morning.

He was clad from head to toe in a thick, heavy maroon cloak that was ripped and tattered in many places; one of his sleeves was ripped off completely while the other was barely hanging on by a single thread. The fabric parted near his thigh; it was obvious that something had cut through the cloth and had just barely missed his flesh. The only thing that felt intact was the hood that hung over his head, which felt heavy, as if someone had dumped it in water and dropped the soaking wet garment on top of him. Slowly, he gripped the hood and pulled it back, feeling the fierce winds around him whip his hair across his eyes.

Ash crinkled his brow as he felt something warm on his hand and pulled it closer to his face to inspect it. His palm was caked in a red, thick liquid; its slightly metallic scent wafted up to his nostrils and caused his heart to skip a beat. Quickly, he patted himself down, feeling small drops of the substance splashing off and onto the stone below. _Am I hurt that bad? What the hell happened to me! Why is there this much blood and there's only pain in my leg?_ Ash suddenly froze as the realization dawned on him; the blood that soaked the cloak he was wearing was not his own. With a frightened and disgusted gasp, he wrenched off the heavy garment and hurled it to the ground, hearing it hit the earth with a wet slap.

Underneath, he was wearing a pair of cotton pants, yet nothing covered his bare chest and back, save for a row of bandages that covered his abs. Both were covered in blood, which had soaked through the cloak onto his skin and pants along with the bandages.

"Go, go, go!" Ash quickly whirled around, spotting a small group of men clad in battle armor and carrying assorted weapons, such as broadswords, katanas and battle axes. They were sprinting down an adjacent street behind him, the metal of their weapons and armor clinking loudly. "Hurry up! The creatures have breached the city!" one of the soldiers yelled at his comrades. "We must give Master Stryker and the other Guardians our support at once!"

"Hey!" Ash hollered, trying to catch their attention. His voice echoed across the street, bouncing from stone building to stone building, yet it seemed that the men didn't hear him. "You guys!" he called again, even louder than the first time. None of them never even tossed a second glance in his direction as they disappeared behind another stone building.

Quickly, Ash started to jog to the men, hoping to find some kind of answers, or at least to figure what was going on. He turned the corner and froze as horrified screams of the men echoed off of the stone walls of the city. "Stand and fight, men! No one will take this city without killing every single of us first! Attack!" the voice yelled as he rallied his men into attacking whatever it was that Ash was staring at, paralyzed in fear.

The ground rumbled as it moved closer, followed by a deafening roar that caused the very walls of the buildings around him to shake and rattle from its awesome power. Suddenly, a shattering explosion rocked the city around him, the shockwave sending him hurling backwards a few feet onto the ground. The screams of the men were blended with the crashing of stone against stone as Ash opened his eyes in time to see the soldier's bodies hurtled into the air like rag dolls from the force of the blast.

Another roar shook the city, causing Ash to desperately scramble to his feet and take off down another abandoned street. Ash's labored breathing echoed within his own skull; all other thought processes inside his head were shoved aside as only one word blared through his mind: survival. The ground rumbled again and Ash tripped with loud cry, colliding with the cold stone road fiercely. He could feel his head throb with pain as a thin sliver of warm liquid slid down the side of his face. It was closing in, he could feel it.

Whimpering, he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable to come. "Ash, what the hell are you doing!" a voice yelled at him from above. Slowly and cautiously, Ash opened his eyes, only to be assaulted by an overload of light that flooded his pupils.

"W...what the hell?" he said incredulously as his eyes adjusted to the light. A head covered with blazing red hair was hovering over him, its feminine face giving an annoyed look at him.

"Why am I not surprised that your lazy ass is just lying around here?" She turned her head to the side and frowned. "You're not any better either, you lazy mouse!"

"Misty?" She turned to him and smacked him in the forehead.

"Did you not hear a word I just said? Get up, both of you! We're late!" she exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and jerked him upwards onto his feet. Again, she reached down and yanked up the small yellow mouse by its jagged tail, eliciting an angry growl from the creature, the red spots on its cheeks beginning to emit small sparks of electricity. Misty gave a harrowing glare towards the Pikachu, which stopped it in its tracks. "You shock me Pikachu, and you will regret it for the rest of your life, I promise you," she said menacingly.

"Pika...," the pokemon whimpered quietly as she set him down on the grass below. Ash took a look around him; he was standing on top of a grassy hill, with a large city stretching out in front of him.

"This is the last time I'm gonna tell you, Ash! Move your ass!" Misty yelled again as she began to run down the city towards the city below. He gave Pikachu a puzzled glance, which shrugged and scampered down the hill after Misty. He didn't know what was stranger, that strange and horrible ruined city that he was just in, or the fact that after closing his eyes for just a moment, he was transported here.

"What the hell is going on?"

* * *

May ran a hand through her hair and sighed as she plopped onto the couch in the living room. "Well, how is he?" she asked as Ritchie finally appeared out the room where Ash was resting. He shook his head and took a seat on a chair, wincing slightly as he did so.

"One cracked rib, two completely broken ones, mild concussion, bruised windpipe, and severe whiplash. And those are just the most serious injuries he's got," Ritchie rattled off. "Chansey's in there now doing her best to heal him. I think it's safe to say though that he won't be going anywhere for at least a month."

"Well, he doesn't look anywhere near as bad he looked when we first grabbed you guys out of that pile in the building," Max commented as he leaned back against the chair and cracked his own spine. Ritchie nodded.

"Yeah, that's the weird thing. When we first got here, I could have sworn he was in worse shape than that. I didn't even think that Chansey would be able to help him; and I still don't think she'll be able to help him much," he added before leaning back in his chair.

"How are you doing?" Brock questioned, prompting a chuckle from Ritchie.

"Surprisingly, I'm doing a hell of lot better than I thought I would be, too. All I've got is this huge bruise on my chest and a sore shoulder, but other than that, I'm fine. I'll tell you, I felt a whole lot worse when we decided to make our own elevator shaft in the middle of the building." Brock shook his head with disbelief.

"I'm still shocked at the fact that either of you even survived a fall like that," he said disbelievingly.

"Well, Sasquatch took the brunt of the fall since he was the one who actually fell onto the ground before us. The debris and what he did before then was what did the most damage to us." Ritchie shook his head. "I still don't know if I was delusional or what, cause I saw some stuff in there that makes absolutely no sense."

Duplica brought her head up and directed her gaze towards him. "What kind of stuff?" Ritchie scoffed and shook his head again.

"Take what I'm about to tell you with a huge grain of salt, because like I said, my mind may have been playing tricks on me," he stated before taking a deep breath. "Ok, you know that door to the vault?" All of the others nodded. "From my warped recollection, the explosive wasn't what opened that door. It looked to me as if he...punched it open."

Max scoffed loudly. "Excuse me? That door is two and half feet of solid steel. Even if you placed one of your little bombs on the door, it would barely open it, if that. Nothing but the shock of the fall could open that vault, and you're telling me that somebody **punched** it open? That's insane!" Max exclaimed.

Ritchie rolled his eyes. "Did I not just say two seconds earlier that it might have been my mind playing tricks on me? Geez, for such a genius, you sure are stupid."

"What!" Max yelled as he rose from his seat. "You better watch your mouth, you idiot!" Ritchie gave him a look and scoffed.

"Max, I think you'd better sit down. I might be injured, but I can still take your scrawny ass any day of the week," he snapped angrily. May suddenly stood up from her seat on the couch and pointed at Ritchie.

"Hey, that's my little brother you're talking to! You better watch what you say about him when I'm around!" she retorted. Ritchie rolled his eyes and tossed her an annoyed look.

"Who the hell was talking to you in the first place? As a matter of fact, why are you even out here when your boyfriend is lying in the other room barely hanging on to life? Some girlfriend you are," he said sarcastically. "Bet Misty would've never left his side," he muttered under his breath.

May narrowed her eyes at the young man sitting in the chair across the room. "What did you just say?"

"I don't have to repeat myself to you, little girl. You know damn well that you heard what I said. What, am I supposed to be afraid of you or something?" he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, you will be when I get through with you," she threatened as she began to make her way across the living room to him.

"That's enough!" Brock suddenly yelled, silencing everyone in the room. "I will not sit here and watch you guys fight like a bunch of six year olds! The last thing we need is for us to be at each others throats! May, Max, sit down and relax!" he exclaimed, pointing at both of them as they sat down. "Ritchie," Brock said as he turned his head in his direction, "Right now, the last thing we need is your smart-ass comments. We have a friend who is badly hurt right now, and we still have not decided a course of action about this sword."

Duplica threw her hands up in the air. "Isn't it obvious? We let it go. First off, we don't even know for sure where it is. Secondly, if by some kind of a miracle that we did have an idea as to where it is, what good will sixty million dollars do us if we're dead?" she explained.

"Well, it'll get us a really nice funeral," Ritchie quipped, prompting the whole room to turn on him. "What? What did I do now?"

"Ritchie, kill it. No more remarks right now, got it?" Brock said, his patience slowly running thin.

"Whatever. The sword is probably with those other guys now." Max shook his head.

"No way. The LSF definitely have it. There's no way we'll be able to get it now."

"Nuh-uh. Brock himself said that when he dug us out before the rest of the building got there, that guy and the sword were gone."

"That's because they were most likely buried in that huge pile of rubble, genius."

Ritchie cocked an eyebrow at Max. "No, that sword was not buried under the rubble."

"Oh really?" Max questioned. "And how would you have any clue of that?"

"Because the damn thing was this close to slicing off my friggin' face when it fell right in front of me! I even placed a tracer on it before I passed out!" Ritchie exclaimed loudly.

"And how do we know that this isn't another instance of your mind playing tricks on you?" Ritchie growled and stood up, walking across the room and picking up a small handheld computer.

"You configured Dexter to pick up tracer signals, right?" Max nodded slowly. "Then activate it," he said, shoving the computer in the young man's chest. "Then we'll see who knows what they're talking about."

"Fine," Max snapped as he clicked on the miniature computer and pressed a few buttons. Max's brow suddenly furrowed as he pressed a few more buttons on the device.

"What's the matter, Max?" Duplica inquired as Max shook his head.

"Well, Ritchie was right...for once," Max bluntly stated. "But that sword is nowhere near here."

"Well, where is it, then?" Brock asked.

"It's in Johto. More specifically, it's right outside of Goldenrod City." Ritchie suddenly jumped up and began to head upstairs to his own room. "Where are you going?"

Ritchie stopped halfway up the stairs and turned around. "I'm going to get ready. I'm getting that damn thing back."

"Ritchie, are you insane?" Duplica asked in a surprised tone. "Every time that we've tried to get this thing either somebody almost gets killed or they almost get caught. Let it go."

"The hell I will. If those assholes think that they can pull that crap they did at the LSF building today and get away with it, they've got another thing coming. They're gonna wish they never screwed with us."

* * *

Dr. Leto could barely contain his excitement as he poured through the mounds of data files on his computer screen. Not only had Steadman recovered the sword, but his team had finally completed the translations on the stone tablets that were found in an abandoned temple in the Hoenn region. The ancient language inscribed into the rock took almost six months to crack; yet it was completely worth the wait.

They told in excruciating detail every aspect of the Guardian Spirits that he needed to know; while they were explained in somewhat cryptic riddles, he had already developed an understanding of how they worked. Now all he had to do was find these hosts, and all of his research would finally come to fruition.

A loud knock on his office door caused him to jerk his head upwards, annoyed at the interruption. "I'm busy. Come back later," he snapped and quickly returned to his study of the ancient legends. With a loud creak, his door slowly opened and a young technician stuck his head inside of the office. "What did just tell you! I'm busy!" he barked.

"Um...I...I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but the Directors would like to have a word with you in the lab. Agent Summers is with them, too." Dr. Leto let out an irritated groan and rose from his seat, clicking off his computer screen.

"Have you gained any new info about the weapons, yet?" he asked as the both of them left his office and trekked through the white hallways of the facility. The young technician nodded vigorously and smiled.

"Those things are amazing, Doctor!" he exclaimed, "First we were just curious about the level of sharpness that the sword possessed, so we ran some tests. That blade is quite possibly one of the sharpest on the planet, sir. It cut through any kind of substance we threw at it: steel, titanium, it even cuts through diamond! There's something strange about the colors inside of the blade, though."

Dr. Leto raised an eyebrow as they rounded another corner. "How so?"

"Well, some of the colors seem brighter than the others; specifically gold, silver, red, brown, and that very light brown. The others are very dull. We still don't get what they're for, or what the substance that they seem to be floating is, either," the technician explained with a shrug.

Dr. Leto's lit up at the information that he'd just be given. _So, some of the hosts have already been found. I'll need to find them as soon as possible,_ he thought to himself. "Have you found anything new with the shield yet?" The technician shook his as he moved behind the Doctor to let another person pass them in the hallway.

"Other than the fact that it's pretty much indestructible, no we haven't. We're still stuck at square one." The technician stopped in front of a pair of large steel doors, the words "Research Lab #1" emblazoned on the front of them. "After you, sir."

Dr. Leto stepped forward, causing the doors to slide open, and pandemonium to escape behind it. The entire lab was in a panic, with scientists and technicians rushing through the area as if a bomb had gone off in the laboratory. A scientist dashed past the Doctor, only to be stopped as Dr. Leto grabbed his arm. "What's going on here?" he demanded in a loud voice, trying to talk above the commotion in the room.

"We don't know, sir! The Directors and Agent Summers were just taking a look at the weapons when the shield suddenly went haywire! It started vibrating like crazy; it eventually got so bad that the glass case we had placed the weapons in had shattered!" he exclaimed, pointing behind him.

Dr. Leto tossed a glance in the direction the scientist was pointing, spotting a large container that held the sword. Its counterpart, a large crystal disk was lying on the floor, surrounded by the remnants of the glass container on the floor. "There was this loud humming, and this flash just came out of nowhere. When we could finally see, the Directors and Agent Summers were on the ground, out cold."

"Where are they now?"

"They're in the infirmary. I heard they're running tests on them right now." Dr. Leto nodded and placed a hand on the scientist's shoulder. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to contact the Board at once; tell them Dr. Leto has urgent news and he must speak with them at once."

"But, why-," he stammered before Dr. Leto cut him off.

"Don't ask questions, do it immediately! And I want to know the instant that any of them wake up, do you understand!" he exclaimed loudly. The scientist nodded and dashed off to carry out the orders that had just been given to him as Dr. Leto chuckled to himself. The technician at his side gave him a puzzled look.

"What is it, sir?"

"We've finally come to a breakthrough with our research. You should be happy; Team Ultima is about to rise up from the ashes once again."

* * *

"What did you guys find in the rubble?" Gary asked as he took a seat next to Misty at the table. The Chief, Tracey, Harrison, and Jenkins were all huddled together in a small conference room as Jenkins sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, we found five bodies. Three of them were men we'd never seen before, so we're assuming that they were a part of the group that did this. The other two...," he said dejectedly, "were two of our own men who were placed to guard the vault. They weren't killed by the explosion though; forensics said that all of them died from broken necks."

"Still think Ash did all of this, Harrison?" Misty asked, prompting a look from him.

"Misty, it's been eight years. People change; we have no idea what he's capable of doing now. He could be a serial killer for all we know. All I know is that he's a wanted criminal who's opened fire on LSF agents, including Gary," he stated bluntly as he gestured towards Gary. "Not only that, but we've got video surveillance that puts him here at this very building at the time of the break-in."

Tracey shrugged. "That's true, Misty. There's no way around it; if we find him, we're going to have take him down, regardless of what we think. Just because you don't believe it doesn't make the truth any less true."

"Don't let your feelings for Ash cloud your judgment, Mist. He's not the same guy we knew all those years ago," Gary added.

"I do not have feelings for Ash!" Misty snapped loudly, slightly startling Jenkins. Gary gave her a skeptical look and leaned back in his chair.

"Remember what I said about you being a horrible liar? That still applies here. I can read you like a book." Misty opened her mouth, about to give an expletive-laced retort before being stopped by the Chief.

"I take it you guys have known this Ash guy before?" he questioned, eliciting a slow nod from them. "What about you, Jenkins? You part of this little family reunion too?" Jenkins shook his head.

"I have no clue who this guy is either, Chief," he said. Gary sighed loudly.

"I grew up with him in Pallet Town. He was our neighbor; our parents were best friends. Tracey traveled around with him and Misty in the Orange Islands. Harrison was one of his many rivals in the Hoenn League, and the reason he was eliminated from the tournament," he clarified. "Even though I knew him pretty well, Misty is probably the only person in the room who knows more about him than all of us combined."

The Chief raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Because she was his girlfriend for two and a half years before he just suddenly disappeared." Misty suddenly slammed her hands on the table and rose from her seat quickly.

"I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be back," she snapped before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her. Azusa glanced at the door, then back at Gary.

"I take it that she doesn't like to talk about it very much." The three of them nodded.

"This is the first time she's actually talked about this since he left her eight years ago," Tracey said.

"Well, we need to run this Ash through the database, see what of criminal record he's got," the Chief said as Jenkins cleared his throat and tossed a few sheets of paper onto the table.

"Well, Gary gave the names while they were on the way back from his house, and I've already checked it out."

"Well?" Azusa questioned.

"Nothing; save for a couple of traffic tickets, he and this Brock guy are completely clean. Either that museum job was their first, or they've got an exceptionally great talent for saying under the radar."

"What about that other guy that was with Ash earlier today? Did you run a search on him yet?" Jenkins nodded.

"Yeah, I ran a search on him, but you guys know how long it takes to sift through all that data. It'll be at least another hour or two before it's done. But what do we do now?"

"We start the cleanup and repair of this building," Azusa stated. "After that info on that other guy comes through, I want an immediate search of his residence, understand?" The others nodded. "Good. Now let's get to work."

* * *

Max glanced out of the window from the kitchen, seeing the sky ablaze with a multitude of colors as the sun settled from the sky, shrouding the world in darkness as night approached. With a yawn, he scratched his head and closed his laptop. Smacking his lips, he yanked open the refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda.

"Where did Ritchie put those glasses?" he asked himself aloud as he opened and closed the cupboard doors.

"They're in the cabinet on the far right, Max," a voice said from behind him, making Max jump. Quickly he whirled around to find an extremely disheveled looking Ash standing at the door of the kitchen, scratching his head.

"You're finally awake, huh? It's about time you woke up; I nearly thought you were in a coma with the injuries you sustained," Max said as he grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and opened the freezer, dropping a few ice cubes in the glass with a series of loud clinks.

Ash took a seat, yawning loudly. "How long have I been asleep?" Max shrugged as he poured the soda in the glass before tossing the can in the trash and taking a seat.

"About three, maybe four days. How you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually. My chest and back are really sore and still hurt a little bit, but other than that, I feel fine." Max gave him a surprised look.

"Really? I'm surprised; how can you even walk after all those wounds you got? It's almost impossible that you're up and walking around like this. That Chansey must have really helped you out," Max said with a chuckle.

"So where are the others?" Max cleared his throat suddenly, and placed his glass on the table.

"They're, uh...out." Ash raised his eyebrow in suspicion.

"Out where?"

"To the Pokemart," Max said hurriedly, hoping to fool Ash.

"Stop lying, Max. Where did they really go?"

"I don't want to tell you. If I do, you'll just go after them, and in the condition you're in, I don't think you'll be able to handle it."

"Max, you're my friend, so I don't want to have to do this. You either tell me, or I'll take that computer and figure out where they are. It's your decision." Max sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, cursing silently.

"Well...when you and Ritchie were at the LSF headquarters, Ritchie somehow slipped a tracer on the sword. It's somewhere outside of Goldenrod City in Johto; they went to go get it. I told them it was stupid, but you know how Ritchie gets when his pride is damaged."

Ash chuckled and rose from his seat, grimacing slightly from the soreness of his body. "Ash, what the hell are you doing? You're not seriously thinking of going after them!" Max exclaimed. "You can barely walk out of this damn kitchen; what in the hell makes you think you can fight whoever the hell these guys are! Don't be stupid like Ritchie and let your pride get in the way!"

Ash stopped at the doorway and turned around. "This isn't about pride or revenge, Max. I've got a lot of questions, and that sword and those people hold the answers I'm looking for." He suddenly grinned from ear to ear.

"Besides, I stole it first. I'm just taking back what's mine."


End file.
